#X RELATIONSHIP ENDED WITH THE CONCEPT OF ROMANTIC LOVE

[inkskinned]

actually, i love you, so you cannot be ugly to me. sometimes i think i have no idea what you actually look like. i know we've been friends for like a while but if someone asked oh who's that i'd talk about how funny you are, how charming. about how i have watched you grow as a person, about how you often choose kindness where i would honestly choose a feral violence. i know you keep a tally of your mistakes and they run around your brain - but in mine? i think they never even make it past the front gate. when i think of you my heart swells up with all the weird shit we've done together and how you've talked me through heartbreak and how i've held your hair back and how we both are like, in therapy, and totally above gossiping, but also like, are going to spill the work tea.

i know! i know you feel ugly. i know you hate that you show symptoms, that you're not normal. you said once - i'm afraid to show others the real me. but i see the other things - about these little quirks that are so, so endearing to me. how you are gentle to strangers. how you stand by your friends. how comfortable you make everybody. how you say hey, did you get home safe? even when it's like 6 feet i'm walking.

i love you. yesterday you spent an hour liveblogging the episode of owl house that you're on and i was like - this person is so fucking amazing. last night you said sorry for infodumping. as if you have anything to apologize for. as if part of the reason we're friends is because i love it when you do this, i love listening. i love you, idiot. i love you so fucking much. i want to stick you in a cage so you stop getting random injuries. i want to throw you into a garbage disposal every time you send me that one specific meme. i love you, i love you, i love you. you mean absolutely everything to me.

[heatmiiiiser]

Ggrrr I wish disenchantment was better. I binged it all because I'm sick somebody talk to me about this.

[pinkmirth]

⸻ 𝒦ℰℰ𝒫ℰℛ!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!

𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎

reiner’s your bulking shadow, never trailing too far behind.

he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.

things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.

nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?

it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.

before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.

‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.

reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.

what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.

“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”

you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.

“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”

you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.

reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.

eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.

you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.

but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .

reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.

he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.

you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.

so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.

your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.

it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.

you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.

“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .

he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.

“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.

“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.

“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”

“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”

“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”

right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.

see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.

upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.

upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.

it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.

you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?

the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.

“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.

“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”

in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.

“oh, please do.”

being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.

there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”

“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .

“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.

mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.

“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.

experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.

“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.

“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.

“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.

by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.

reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.

as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.

“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.

“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.

you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.

“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.

he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.

“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.

reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”

not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.

he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.

“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.

“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.

“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.

“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.

reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.

“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.

“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.

“yes, tonight, rei!”

he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—

“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”

©PINKMIRTH! . . . all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ୨୧

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & THEM BEING GIRL DADS .

characters. zhongli diluc kaeya childe neuvillette alhaitham kaveh x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. augh dad | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

zhongli

tries to introduce your daughter to the concept of a tea ceremony with the assistance of madame ping – zhongli absolutely cannot keep a straight face when your daughter spits out the bitter liquid and instead opts for formula. at least she tried it, he laughs, and sits her tucked on his lap after she turns to him and asks for a 抱抱 (bào bào; to hug).

diluc

takes your daughter on a walk around the ragnvindr manor. visits from uncle kaeya are a regular sight, and the two brothers take one hand of your daughter's each before setting off. you trail behind them, smiling and taking photographs for memories. halfway through the walk, your daughter makes grabby hands for diluc.

kaeya

wants to play games with his daughter all day, but cannot – instead, he sneaks her into his office to play while he finishes his paperwork. when the little girl whines to be put on his lap, kaeya puts down everything he's doing to make sure that his little angel is comfortable in his arms. brings her home right after work as well. how cute!

childe

willingly plays dress up with your daughter!!! it's so so so cute. he'll come home, slumped on a couch and snoring – when your daughter climbs all over him like a human jungle gym. unfortunately, she got into your makeup stash, and it's evidence by her little masterpiece all over childe's face. he has to take pictures after, because the little artist said so.

neuvillette

his relationship with the melusines really just screams girl dad, doesn't it? but when the two of you have a biological daughter, his love for her cannot compare to anything else. he gently weaves his fingers through her hair, replicating his own hairstyle, with added braids in it. the little girl squeals with delight, because she looks like daddy.

alhaitham

alhaitham has taken up the duty of having daddy storytime, right before bed. your little girl curls up in his lap, clinging on to the same storybook he has read to her for the past... 40? 45? nights, in a row. alhaitham doesn't even need the storybook at this point, and even ends up creating new characters for the story. your girl loves it.

kaveh

is the primary source of entertainment for your daughter. she loves how her daddy can be so silly yet so... smart, at the same time. she probably doesn't even know what smart is – she just sees the huge books and papers that daddy brings home every day. but she loves him, because he plays with her and feeds her her favourite snacks.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx (send ask to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)

[queenshelby]

AMERICAN GIRL (PART ONE)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace's Stepdaughter!Reader

Warning: Grace is a bully, infidelity, taboo

On a brisk autumn day, you and your younger sibling Emma sailed into Liverpool harbor. You each carried a large, old-fashioned cart filled with towering brown suitcases, with a satchel casually slung over your shoulders.

The journey had left Emma exhausted, clinging to you as she marvelled at the unfamiliar sights of the port with wide eyes.

"I'm afraid," she confided in you, her words barely audible as they grazed your ear.

"I understand Em, but we have each other, and I will always look after you," you comforted her, putting on a smile. You promised to always take care of Emma, and true to your word, you have been her guardian angel since the day she arrived in this world.

Shortly after Emma was born, your mother sadly passed away due to unexpected complications during the pregnancy at her age.

It was a shock to everyone and left you to step into the roles of both mother and sister to Emma at the young age of 12.

Even in your youth, you held onto the hope that your father would one day find love again. Little did you expect that it would come in the form of Grace Burgess who was a young Irish woman with no money to her name after fleeing England in a haste. Grace had cleverly leveraged his wealth and power to her benefit despite their significant age difference.

Your father fell head over heels for her the moment he laid eyes on her at the corner grocery store in New York, just after your 13th birthday.

Their romance blossomed quickly, leading to marriage in less than a year.

At the tender age of seventeen, your father's love for her tragically transformed into heartbreak as she started a romantic relationship with a man from England - the very same man you were about to start living with.

Thomas Shelby was a name that sent shivers down the spine of those who knew of him - an enigmatic and formidable figure who held significant sway in the depths of England.

In the streets of Birmingham, he controlled his own illicit kingdom, bending the rules to his liking. And yet, your stepmother Grace couldn't help but be drawn to him, just as she had been to your father all those years ago when they first crossed paths.

Just before ending his life due to a broken heart, your wealthy father decided to cut ties with his second wife, leaving all his possessions to you and your sister for your 21st birthdays. This decision left Grace boiling with rage.

Soon after, she vanished to be with her lover in England and the two of you were forced to reside with a cruel family member instead as you had not yet turned 21, being the age of adulthood in America.

Within less than a year of living with this man however, you brought about his demise with a single bullet to the head, all because he dared to touch your sister Emma. It was in that moment that your entire world began to shift.

After a series of run-ins with the law leading to stints in juvenile detention, your father's lawyer came to the rescue, securing your freedom at the age of nineteen, albeit with the catch that you had to leave the country for good.

Of course, you gave your consent, but you were taken aback when it was revealed that your grandparents had struck a deal with Grace, out of all people, to care for you and Emma until you turned 21 and inherited half of your father's wealth.

What also came as a shock was the discovery that for the past two years, your family had been colluding with the Shelby Family, smuggling liquor into the United States without your knowledge and you knew that this must have been Grace's doing.

Grace had always been fascinated by the concept of wealth, much like your grandparents and uncle who shared her passion. Therefore, it didn't come as a shock to you when you recently stumbled upon the name 'Shelby Company Limited' in multiple transaction records within your grandfather's office.

While you understood the reasons behind everything relating to the business deals between your family and the Shelbys, the mystery still lingered as to why Grace decided to take you and Emma in after all the turmoil she had caused. After all, she had found herself entwined with a man of considerable wealth, so she had no need for the money that your family would have been willing to pay her for looking after you and your sister unless, of course, she was worried it wouldn’t last.

After two years had passed, this man still hadn't made her his wife, leaving you to ponder whether she harboured any doubts about his commitment to ever tying the knot.

Your stepmother may have been anxious about her partner abandoning her once the business arrangement in the US came to an end, a deal that she likely orchestrated and this, in itself, made you think that, perhaps, you would now finally have the upper hand.

As any young woman in your situation would, you nurtured a deep-seated anger towards Grace. She was the last person you wanted to rely on, let alone live with.

But you shoved those emotions down as you and Emma disembarked the large ship, weaving through the bustling crowd, ready for what lay ahead.

Just as instructed, outside the dock, you were greeted by a young man named Finn.

Finn, in his early twenties, extended his hand to take your luggage with a friendly smile as you approached.

"I am Finn, and you must be Y/N and Emma, right? Tommy has sent me to pick you up," he told you and Emma clung to you tightly, before peering at Finn suspiciously.

"Nice to meet you, Finn," you replied, offering a warm, polite smile.

Once your luggage was stored securely in the back of the Bentley, the three of you set off on the two-hour journey from Liverpool to Birmingham.

Emma's head rested on your shoulder as she slowly drifted off to sleep, her energy depleted from the journey, while Finn was attempting to make small talk with you while, occasionally, looking back through the rear-view mirror.

It was obvious to you that he had already taken a liking in you, but his youthful charm and charisma was not enough to sway you, not after everything that had happened in the past.

You acknowledged his attempts with brief responses, unable to fully engage in the conversation until he brought up the fact that you had killed a man.

"So, my brother mentioned that you had to leave New York because you killed someone. Is it true?" Finn questioned earnestly and without any filter whatsoever.

Your heart raced as you contemplated the best way to respond to his question.

"Yes, it's true," you finally admitted bluntly, looking straight ahead, not wanting to engage in a detailed conversation about it.

Finn, seemingly surprised by your response, paused before shifting the Bentley into a higher gear.

"Did you shoot him?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

You nodded, your jaw set.

Finn didn't press for more details, for which you were grateful. But you could sense his intrigue as he glanced at you through the rearview mirror.

Emma stirred in her sleep, mumbling softly, drawing your attention back to her peaceful face. You smoothed her unruly hair back, your heart swelling with protectiveness.

You would do anything to keep her safe. After all, you had already lost so much in your life already, so you could not lose her as well. 

***

Eventually, the streets of Birmingham came into view, appearing as a striking contrast to the glamour and elegance of your hometown. 

"Wow, this is different," you murmured to yourself, your gaze locked on the sprawling slums that lay outside the car window. There were workers fighting each other and whores selling themselves on the cobblestone streets, while children ran in all directions, many of them ragged and filthy.

"Don't worry. I am taking you somewhere nice," Finn assured you, seeing the look on your face and you could only hope that he was right, because if this was what Birmingham looked like everywhere, you wondered how you could possibly survive here for the next two years.

Despite Finn's enthusiasm, something about the place left you feeling uneasy, like a predator lurked in the shadows and you could see the appeal for criminals to operate here.

Before long, the Bentley turned into the private road of a luxurious home outside of Birmingham  .

The driveway was long, shielded by trees, and it wasn't until the last bend that you caught a glimpse of the mansion at the end.

The house was stunning, with intricately carved mahogany furnishings, rich velvet curtains framing large bay windows, and marble floors polished to a high sheen.

The structure exuded opulence while maintaining a cozy air with its plush décor.

Upon arrival, Finn hopped out of the driver's seat and opened the back door for you and Emma.

You carefully stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway, feeling the weight of this new world pressing down upon you. Emma rubbed her eyes and slowly emerged from her drowsy state, taking in the splendor of the ornate mansion with fascination and open admiration.

Finn led you through the imposing oak door, which creaked slightly as he pulled it open. As soon as you entered, you were met with a grand foyer adorned with chandeliers that cast an amber glow upon the walls.

"You made it," Grace 's stern voice eventually echoed off the marble tiles, causing you to turn around.

She stood there in a long-sleeved maroon blouse and black pencil skirt, her piercing blue eyes sizing you up like some sort of puzzle she couldn't wait to solve.

Emma, seemingly intimidated by her appearance, slowly retreated behind you as Grace approached with determination.

"You look well, given the circumstances," she then said to you, her voice laced with a noticeable hint of sarcasm, causing you to roll your eyes.

"I was hoping not to see you again, but here we are," you murmured under your breath, drawing Grace's ire as she narrowed her bright blue eyes infinitesimally.

"You should be grateful that I took you in," she snarled sharply, causing you to chuckle.

"How much are my grandparents paying you to have us?" you said, unflinching, watching Grace's face for a reaction.

Grace's expression barely changed, merely raising an eyebrow as if amused before replying scathingly, "Nothing. At least not until you make it to 21, so you better behave," she warned.

You took a deep breath, realizing that this was not the time to engage in a war of words with your stepmother. You turned to Emma and noticed that she was trembling slightly and you could see the worry etched into her delicate features. You slipped your arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and offering what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Let's get you settled in," you said softly to Emma, who managed a weak nod in response as Grace turned and led the way down the grand hallway.

"The maids will show you to your rooms. You will be staying in the staffing quarters,"  Grace snapped as she pivoted and strode through an arched doorway, leaving you and Emma with two young women wearing crisp white aprons who appeared in your line of vision.

You watched silently as Grace disappeared before you turned to Emma, smiling despite the tension thickening in the air, and whispered gently, "She can't hurt us, Em. She needs us. So just ignore her." 

Emma nodded slowly, but it was clear that she wasn't entirely convinced.

You couldn't blame her - the past few years had been nothing but a series of harsh lessons for both of you, leaving you both vulnerable and wary. But deep down, you knew that things would be different here. This was a new beginning for the two of you, away from the cold-hearted family members who had mistreated you, and into the care of someone who, while intimidating and unpredictable, was bound to follow your father's final wishes for financial reasons.

You were determined to make the best of this opportunity, no matter how difficult that might be considering your complicated history with Grace and, with that in mind, you unpacked your suitcases and settled in.

The rooms were modest but comfortable, with the staff quarters being clean and well looked after, much to your surprise.

Soon enough, your first day in Birmingham was drawing to a close and after you put Emma to bed, you decided to have a warm bath before venturing out to explore this somewhat opulent mansion. 

You put on the satin robe which once belonged to your mother and strolled towards the grand staircase with bare feet, looking at all of the incredible paintings that lined the walls, showcasing various landscapes and portraits of people whose names you did not yet know.

As you reached the second floor, you came across a door which seemed slightly ajar and upon pushing it open, you discovered a library.

Your eyes widened at the sight of thousands of books neatly arranged on wooden bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling before, in the room next to it, finding a large piano.

You walked over to the piano and gently touched its surface, marveling at the intricate carvings before looking back at the books surrounding you.

The library was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards settling. You moved further into the room, running your fingers along the spines of various titles.

There were novels from authors you recognized like Charles Dickens, Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters but there was also an array of non-fiction texts ranging from science, philosophy to mathematics and history.

There was also a section dedicated to poetry where you spotted a few works by Lord Byron, Samuel Taylor Coleridge and William Wordsworth which intrigued you.

Despite the vast quantities of books in this room, the smell of old leather-bound volumes filled the air as if it was just yesterday when they were placed on these mahogany shelves.

Just as you were about to pick up a book of poetry, the door creaked open, and you heard a dark voice behind you.

"It's quite sad, really," the man said, his tone heavy with contempt. "The book, I mean," he clarified as you turned around, meeting the stranger's gaze.

"I am Thomas Shelby and you must be Y/N,"  he introduced himself, approaching you with a confident stride.

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of the man who stood before you. He was handsome, there was no denying that, but it wasn't just his chiseled features or his magnetic blue eyes that caught your attention. No, it was the air of danger that surrounded him, like a cloud that warned others not to get too close.

You composed yourself, extending your hand towards him. "Yes, I am Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Shelby," you greeted him with a polite smile, determined to maintain your composure.

"Please, call me Tommy, eh,"  Thomas replied, his cockney accent more pronounced than you'd expected.

He took your offered hand, giving it a firm shake before letting go and stepping back to study you with his intense gaze which lingered a little longer on your bare legs than it probably should.

"Thank you for letting me and my sister stay here, with you," you said almost professionally , breaking the silence. You had to admit, Thomas was an intimidating man but you held your ground without flinching under his scrutiny.

"Well, it wasn't my choice," he chuckled. "Grace practically begged me and I find it rather difficult to say no to her these days,"  he admitted, his tone softening.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his candidness. "Well, my stepmother can be persuasive, I give her that," you told him while putting the book back into the shelf. 

"You could say that," he replied, offering little insight into their relationship. "Do you drink?" Thomas asked in a manner so casual that the question caught you off guard, but your curiosity was sparked, and you wanted to know more about him. Despite his intimidating presence, he struck you as an intriguing puzzle you couldn't wait to solve.

"I wouldn't say no," you responded with a slight tilt of your head, smiling coyly.

Thomas chuckled at your response before turning around to pour two glasses of whiskey from a crystal decanter on the leather-topped table nearby. With an elegant grace, he handed one to you.

You took it with a slight nod, allowing your fingers to graze his before taking hold of the glass. The warmth spread from your fingertips and up your arm, causing a pleasant shiver to run down your spine.

"There you go, now you can keep me some company," Tommy said with a sly grin as he took a sip of his whiskey and sat down.

"Why don't you get Grace to keep you company?" you asked as you followed suit, feeling the alcohol burn your throat and spread through your body, warming you from the inside out. 

"Because, by now, I would assume that she is sound asleep," Thomas replied, chuckling wryly.

"Well, it is midnight already, which brings me to the question of why you are still up," you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Because I can't fucking sleep, Love," he replied in a tone of voice that made your heart race, "there is always business on my mind, day and night." 

You stared at him for a moment, contemplating whether or not to ask more about his life. After all, you had heard stories about Thomas Shelby and his criminal empire. 

"Well, the booze doesn't export itself to New York now, does it?"  you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.

Thomas chuckled at your response, finding amusement in your wit. He appreciated a challenge - it was something he hadn't encountered in a while. Grace had always been so timid around him, obedient almost. But you, on the other hand, didn't cower in the face of his daunting presence.

"So you know what I do, eh?" Thomas agreed, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Did Grace tell you?" Thomas questioned, a slight glint in his eyes as he studied you intently. His gaze was unwavering, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort at his scrutiny. However, you refused to let him intimidate you, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Oh god no. My stepmother would not discuss matters like this, not with me anyway. She very much dislikes me," you told Tommy as he lid himself a cigarette, his gaze never wavering. "But I know more about my family's business interests than one might think," you admitted, reluctant to speak ill of Grace.

Tommy's lips quirked upwards before he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "That doesn't surprise me, Love. A little birdie has told me that you had some run ins with the law recently, which is why you are here now, in fucking Birmingham of all places,"  Thomas said, his tone laced with an underlying hint of mischief.

He leaned back against the leather armchair, his eyes never leaving yours as he took a long drag from his cigarette.

"Well, it's safe to say that I had made some mistakes in the past," you admitted, holding his gaze firmly. "But I had my reasons for doing what I did," you explained, and  Thomas chuckled at your response, finding your confidence endearing. He had always admired a strong-willed woman - and you were undoubtedly that.

"We all have our reasons, Love,"  Tommy agreed, his tone softening.

You took another sip of your whiskey, the fire in your throat becoming increasingly comforting, and you let out a sigh. The truth was that you had always been impulsive, driven by emotion rather than reason.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before speaking. "I suppose you're right," you admitted, swirling the amber liquid around your glass before raising from your seat.

"It's getting late and I should probably get some sleep," you said before thanking Tommy for the drink.

Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, studying his features as he did the same with you. There was a spark of curiosity between the two of you, but you quickly tried to push your intrusive thoughts away. 

"Good night, Y/N,"  Thomas murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fleeting moment before you turned around and walked towards the door, hiding your body's reaction to his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you replied softly, taking one last look at the library before stepping out and closing the door behind you.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of uneasiness that clung to you like a second skin. You shook your head slightly as if to clear the thoughts away, telling yourself that you were only imagining things.

But the way he had looked at you, the slight hint of something deeply sensual in his gaze, lingered and left you with a curious sensation.

You made your way to your guest room, undressing slowly before slipping between the smooth sheets. Emma was already fast asleep, her gentle snores barely audible as you switched off the bedside lamp. The room plunged into darkness, leaving only the faintest gleam of moonlight to cut through the curtains and cast thin stripes of silver upon the walls.

You stared up at the ceiling, the alcohol swimming lazily in your veins and causing your thoughts to swirl with unclear notions.

As much as you tried to fight against the growing allure, Thomas Shelby had intrigued you. There was no denying it. He possessed an air of mystery and darkness that called out to that impulsive part of you like a siren's song which was a part of you which you knew you had to suppress. 

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[cannibalbuffe]

hi! I've honestly been craving some qpr headcanons with Alastor as someone who's also aroace! The concept piques my curiosity so much considering most of the stuff with him is purely romantic (no offense to those writers, I just wanna see more qpr stuff! :])

Of course! But do forgive me, annon, I got so carried away with this 😅. I just really like Alastor a lot.

I ended up writing some backstory to your relationship first, but I highlighted the start of the proper qpr headcanons if you feel like skipping that.

Obligatory I'm sorry if this is ooc, I'm still getting used to writing about these characters. This is also all based on my own perception of him.

(Also, I am aware that qprs are very different from one another and there is no single mold for a qpr, I'm just going off of what I think it would be like with Alastor.)

Uhh, I also finished this at 1 AM, so forgive any mistakes. And I'm pretty sure I changed the verb conjugations(? Is this how you say that in English?) from present to past at some point. Sorry. Enough with the A/Ns now. Hope you enjoy!

Alastor queerplatonic relationship headcanons

(gender neutral reader, Alastor x reader)

‼️Trigger-warning‼️: mentions of cannibalism (not graphic), a single mention of tongue-kissing and making out (spoiler: he doesn't want either of those things in this work.) Usage of the word queer, but not as a slur. Alastor is a grandpa and you have to explain LGBTQ+ stuff to him, but he gets it.

› At first, before you were close, it's likely that he didn't see you as an equal.

› Truly, in his eyes, it seems not really is his equal. He is the most powerful overlord in hell and he knows it.

› Unless you are someone he holds in high regard (and this is mostly based on vibes, barely anything to do with power, as we can see by how he is with Lucifer of all people) before your first meeting, like Zestial, you won't be on equal footing at first.

› You only really start getting close when his perception of you shifts.

› You respect his boundaries, you are interesting, you and him share quite a few interests (or not really, but you're at least interested in hearing about his), and you're, surprisingly, pretty wise and mature.

› And caring. I personally believe he would be drawn to that in a way that he may not even understand fully- or realize it at all.

› Still, the point is. He respects you, and you respect him.

› (And not in the way some others do, where they're only "respectful" out of fear. You would act like this regardless of his power.)

› This, by the way, is important. You don't treat him like a superior, but as an equal.

› You'd think someone like him would love to be treated like a superior, and it's true. He very much does.

› But he has to admit to himself that it does feel nice whenever someone isn't shaking in their boots and can hold really good conversations with him while still not being pushy, annoying or just generally disrespectful.

› Anyways.

› Ever since you became friends (which took long), one could say, you just kept becoming closer and closer.

› You were the first one to be vulnerable with him, of course. It happened on accident, but you trusted him enough for that.

› You were also the first one to share any more intimate information with him. Something you wouldn't tell just anyone.

› Between this, your conversations, and maybe even helping each other around (honestly, he probably helps you more than you do him, but you always offer it and always in a sweet way, never condescending, and he appreciates that.)

› He eventually felt more comfortable sharing personal things with you too.

› (He may have distanced himself a bit when he realized this, but it was short-lived. You can't be without each other for so long, and you were pretty upset at his suddenly withdrawal. You may not have mentioned it to him, but he could tell, and as much as he hated to admit it, it hurt him to see you sad because of him.)

› This marks the beginning of the path toward your queerplatonic relationship.

› I mean, you didn't initially label it as such, but it definitely started there.

› Surprisingly, I feel like the first one to ever do any sort of affectionate gesture towards the other was him.

› You knew he didn't like to be touched, so you didn't.

› But! He just started getting more and more comfortable with touching you. At first it was hands on your shoulders, or putting his arm over them.

› I can even see a head pat or two, which he probably passed off as some sort of joke the first few times, but, if you liked them so much, just became a thing he does to you.

› And then one day you, completely absent-mindedly, intertwined your arm with his while walking around.

› When you noticed you had done it and he hadn't said anything, you questioned him about it.

› "Alastor, I'm sorry I didn't ask... is this alright?"

› "This?... Oh, you mean the arms? Ah, dear, don't worry, if it weren't I would have simply told you so!"

› From them on you only got more and more physically affectionate with each other. At first you would usually be the one to start it, but eventually you were both shockingly equal in doing so.

› (You still would always ask if you could touch him beforehand, but after a while he just gave you a free-pass.)

› Not a lot in public, though. Mostly just hand holding, or intertwining arms (if in public, that is.)

› Alastor also was so protective of you. You were the person he treasured most, after all.

› Well, demon.

› Even if you told him you were going to be okay, he would watch out nonetheless. He couldn't afford to lose you, not when he's never trusted and cared for a person this much.

› You two also cuddle a lot. You were the first one to ask, as usual, but now both of you feel weird sleeping alone.

› Alastor loves being the big spoon, if you're doing that.

› But he is also quite fond of occasionally being the little spoon, although he wouldn't be caught dead admitting it.

› A hobby you two do together is cooking. Cooking with Alastor is fun... especially if you're okay with cannibalism.

› But if you don't like that, he won't insist, of course.

› He's pretty good at cooking, though! If you're also good at it, then great. If not, he'll tease you about it (in a friendly way), but still teach you.

› On teasing, he teases you quite a bit, but never in a mean way. If you don't mind, of course.

› You also may tease him occasionally, but he doesn't appreciate you teasing him in public.

› The two of you also have a good amount of inside jokes that probably confuse the hell out of the others.

› Kissing... well. I don't really see Alastor as the type who would enjoy kissing on the lips too much.

› Tongue is out of question for him, as well as any sort of making out, but otherwise... if you like it, he can do that for you.

› He might actually like a peck or two. An acquired taste for him. Don't overdo it, though.

› Of course, him being from the 1930s and not very familiar with anything LGBTQ+ related, he would, at first, be somewhat confused by the request.

› You would probably have to explain to him that nothing is inherently romantic, especially not if you don't want it to be.

› "A kiss on the lips? Well... we aren't courting, Y/n."

› "We can put our own meanings to things, though. Would you like this kiss to be romantic?"

› "Definitely not!"

› "Well, me neither. So it's not!"

› "... That is very sound logic! I can't believe I've never thought of this myself."

› Kisses on the rest of the face are something else, though. He does enjoy it whenever you kiss him on the cheek. He himself might occasionally kiss you on the forehead.

› But overall I don't think he's big on kissing.

› If you want to really solidify that you're in a queerplatonic relationship you'd also have to explain what that means to him, sorry.

› Again, he's old and not up to date with things.

› Thankfully he understands things easily.

› "I see... I suppose we do have quite the queer relationship, don't we? And it is certainly platonic. I don't see why not!"

› Going back to vulnerability. It will never feel fully natural for him to just be vulnerable with you — or anyone else, for the matter.

› (In case you couldn't tell, he's using the word queer as meaning odd (and doing a little pun. You know. Because it's a. Queerplatonic relationship. Queer. Hehehehe), as it defies the norm of what a platonic relationship usually looks like, despite being one.)

› But you know him well enough at this point to recognize whenever there's something going on with him.

› And if you show concern and give him enough time he will share whatever it is with you.

› If it's not anything too big he might even reach out to you first.

› He can also read you like a book and gives surprisingly good advice, and is also pretty good at comforting you.

› You are the only person allowed at his studio while he's live on the radio. You usually read as he speaks in the background, his voice is very relaxing. He enjoys having you around.

› He's also particularly gentlemanly to you, more than to the others. When you're with him you never have to open a single door yourself, for one. If it's raining, he'll hold the umbrella for the two of you. When walking together on the sidewalk, he's always on the side closest to the street instead of you.

› You two often go out for dinner. If you also fancy some cannibalism, he will definitely show you his favorite restaurants around. If not he will just pick the best non-cannibal places (but you know those are not his favorites, haha.)

› He just cares about you a lot, even if it took him long to admit (it may have seemed fast-paced during this, but Alastor is someone who really takes long to get close to.)

› And you care about him lot too!

› (And you're probably never going to be in a life-threatening situation again, at least not at the hands of most demons. Who would ever want trouble with Alastor?)

[corpseidol]

can you write a tyler x female reader where reader's love language is gift giving?

OFC, DARLING.

author's note : this one's romantic but i'll prob write platonic one too because tyler is my comfort character hehe

concept : f!reader who’s love language is gift giving genre : fluff, hcs + drabble, romantic content : established relationship, mutual pining, you both met because of the sbg group, taylor mentions

⠀ › ⠀was more than surprised when you did it for the first time ⠀ › ⠀didn’t even know how to respond when you gave your first gift to him ⠀ › ⠀you could’ve sworn he had that small glitter in his eyes ⠀ › ⠀if you gave him a bracelet/necklace, he would wear it but hide it with his clothes (put the necklace under his shirt, bracelet under long sleeves, etc) ⠀ › ⠀in the phantom world, he would put so much sentimental value on the accessories you gave him as gifts. it gets him going. ⠀ › ⠀he’s the type to hoard all of it. ⠀ › ⠀at first, he kept it all in any area of his room that had space for it ⠀ › ⠀when your gifts started piling up, he got the idea of keeping all of them in one specific area ⠀ › ⠀when taylor found all your gifts, she prob brought it up to him like “have you ever thought of giving her a gift back?” ⠀ › ⠀he swears he has thought of it, he just doesn't know what to give. (he tried winning a plushie from that claw game at the arcade but he ended up raging and saying "this is rigged!") ⠀ › ⠀he was nervous about giving you gifts in front of others, so when you went out together alone; he gave you something i guess you could call.. adorable?

tyler held out a small box in his hands, one thing immediately went to your mind; a ring. "you got me something?" you smiled "we're a little too young for marriage but we can -"

you couldn't finish your statement when he quickly raised his voice a little bit "i'm not proposing!" tyler panicked, he took a deep breath and opened it, your lips slightly parted; gasping.

the look on your face and the stiffening of your body made tyler nervous so he immediately closed it and scratched his neck, "it's fine if you don't like it, it was taylor's idea anyway." you grabbed the box from him and opened it.

there was a heart pendant, you opened it and saw one half having tyler's picture and the other half having your part of the picture. it was the day you two met. you took a selfie with the whole group during the outing.

"i love it." you smiled. tyler had a surprised look on his face. "cool." tyler nodded "cool." you giggled.

⠀ › ⠀he dislikes being soft but he swears he would do anything for you

[i-yap]

Literally loving ur writing so far Bestie 🥺💙would I be able to req how the batboy would react to a fwb/situationship vibe with reader? Like they have feelings but reader is scared of commitment

Thank youuu! Im gonna be really honest, I don't think a lot of the batboys would be okay with a situationship sort of deal.. and I don't write romantic damian( at least not yet) .

Batboys x reader- Situationship headcanons

Dick grayson-

I can see a teammate or someone he works close with as a detective turns into a night of passion and now both of them cant go back to normal situation .

He says he is okay with it, and prolly keeps up that act for 4-5 months?

I think you would end the situationship. Dick is a really sought-after guy and one night he Is just upset with you about something. So when another girl flirts with him rather than his usual " I'm sorry there's someone else I'm into" line he flirts back. You see red

you either walk away angry/upset or pull him away. He follows you to an alley or a secluded area of the party.

"why are you even upset, you are the one who doesn't want us to be official?" "well that's not because I don't want you, that's because I'm scared of intimacy"

He would be really understanding once you explain your issues and fear of commitment. You guys come up with a better set of guidelines for your arrangement and he sticks to it.

if you want an open relationship, he is down. if you want to be exclusive but not yet in a relationship relationship he would be okay.

But dick does want to get married someday and have kids. So this arrangement wont last for long. he will try his hardest to help you overcome that fear of commitment but if you cant then its gonna end someday. And he makes that clear to you from the start. all cards are on the table always and communication is key and he makes sure no one gets hurt( or at least tries avoiding it as much as he can)

Jason todd

wont do it

maybe a bestfriend turned situationship scenario

you are his sanctuary , his home a safe place to come back to. and after everything he has been through he struggles with so many insecurities and he deserves a domestic life.

the moment he sees you with another guy, even if it just flirting, he is out the door. He already believes no one loves him and now you don't even want to commit to him? is he not enough?

he gets that you have issues and no one understands issues better than him. But he is in so much pain already that its best for the both of you to not get together at all.

even the fact that you from the very start didn't want to commit makes him get all in his head and even if you get ready to commit later on , he wont be able to forget that fact and will keep thinking you'll leave him or he isn't the one

he also reads a lot of classic literature and romance in books is what he wants. the concept of a situationship doesn't make sense to him and he just needs some good old domestic loving.

Tim drake

best at it

you guys are young, he is so busy. he is totally cool with a teenage dirtbagy relationship

lets meet under the bridge , get high and makeout type of shit,

Partners in crime / bestfriends that hookup

he loves it, its perfect for him

there are no expectations no responsibilities, you guys are just what the other needs . no stupid anniversaries and big fancy dinners

tim gives very "eat the rich" vibes so this situationship is another way for him to be a little rebellious .

Very very teenage dirtbag- going to grocery shops at 2am and sitting on the dirty floor trying all 20 types of slushies

spray painting the really big asshole companies buildings, going to huge rallies without having any idea what you are rallying for.

stealing the batmobile and then crashing it

the adrenaline makes you hot and bothered and it leads to more. and once its over you go to a shady Chinese place and tip 200 on a 40 dollar meal.

he gets you, you get him and you don't need labels to show your love to each other. and who needs someone else when you have everything you could want within each other? and then someday when you're ready and if you are ready, you can always make it official. its all up to you two , fuck the labels

[yok00k]

coming down

pairing: non-idoloc! x idol!jk

genre: angst

“i always want you when i’m coming down”

sypnosis: although you sleep next to jungkook every single night, it feels like you’re million miles away from him.

wordcount: around 1,000

warning: in 1st pov, it’s a little sad (for me), open ended ending, one sided love, allusion of cheating, oc’s world revolves around jk (don’t be like her)(lowkey im her), toxic relationship, lack of communication

author’s note: this did not go as I initially planned help-_- i was gonna make light jealousy oc/jk drabble idk how I ended up with this. i hope yall sob w/ me or lmk ur thoughts

an absolute ideal.

his performance. the concept. the way he sang his new released songs flawlessly. how smooth his dancing movements were. how the stage composition and development were so sumptuous.

and most importantly, how romantic the live performance was, given the fact that there was an actress involved in the show.

calling Jungkook an amazing artist would be an understatement. He’s creative, unique, and original in his masterpieces. Everything he does, no matter what, is just mesmerizing and astounding. He’s indeed a true performer.

Jungkook dedicated several months to work on his solo album. The time and effort he had put to his work is just admirable. On most days, he stays up late, trying to come up with so many possible ideas and options he can add on his album.

and I was there by his side. I chose to be.

I was there, waiting for him to come home every single night, or usually midnight, in our noiseless living room, wrapped with a thick blanket and loneliness. He would arrive home, but as night by night goes, I was accompanied by nothing but solitude. it feels like it’s taking over me.

I was there, in bad days where Jungkook is focusing on the negatives and having doubts in himself. Days where his standards for himself weren’t being met. both of my shoulders were closely next to him if he needed something to lean into. Reminding him that it’s okay and he’s doing wonderful.

I was there, even in times when he didn't want or need me to be there. times where he just wanted to be by his own with no distraction. but here I am, continuously showing him my undying love and support for him.

I chose to stay there. on nights where he stopped saying “i love you” back before going to dreamland. I hugged him closer as I convinced myself to believe that he just didn’t feel like saying those three words at those moment because of all the stress he undergoes through day to day.

I gave all of myself, I’ve done my part as his other half. Just like how Jungkook produces his works, I poured all my love and time to him, leaving not a thing for myself. It sounds foolish, but that’s just how I love

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

we’re both lying on the massive bed, only inches apart from one another’s body yet it feels like he’s millions of miles away from me as I stare at his cold, broad back that’s facing me.

I’ve got to used to this upsetting scenario at this point but that doesn’t mean it hurt less.

The whole bedroom feels chilly. I’m freezing, solely due to the fact that his warm arms weren’t wrapped around me like they used to be. as i’m not hearing his snores, I know that he’s still awake

“Do you still love me?” I manage to ask out loud and clear, immediately regretting the words that came out of my mouth even though it’s simply an inquiry.

a question that’s been going around my head for quite some time now. a question that i’m afraid to know the answer to because his response might be the response my heart doesn’t wish to hear or else it will shatter into millions of pieces.

my hope for an answer rapidly decreased as seconds went by filled with silence. The absence of noise that surrounded me was deafening; abundantly mocked the emotions I was feeling at the moment, screaming at me that my feelings didn't matter.

It's alright.

I did nothing but wipe the single tear that uncontrollably rolled down my cheek.

it’s stupid. I should’ve just kept it to myself. maybe that would be less embarrassing. less problematic. less painful than I was feeling minutes ago.

I turned my back against his as I accepted my defeat. maybe I’m just tired. maybe drifting to sleep will make me feel okay although I know deep inside that I won’t take the pain away. this is not some type of feeling i’m unfamiliar with to begin with.

I shut my eyes, as I try to put myself to sleep. but in that process, i felt his body moving, turning around, and finally snakes his warm arms around me. a pair of arms, the same ones I longed for so many nights.

“____, why would you ask that?” he giggly asked, sounding like he just heard a silly question. as if i was just being clingy and wanted some piece of his attention.

‘because i don’t feel like you love me anymore’

the man waited for a response, waiting to see if I was just fooling around or that was really genuine. the noiselessness, just like all times, answers the question we both interrogate to each other.

the heavy feelings just got worse, if not heavier. even so when he talks more. “i won’t be laying next to you if i wasn’t.” as if that makes me feel better.

indeed, he’s physically here by my side yet distant. Jungkook is so far off that I’ve lost him. numbness was all I felt as I heard his words. I couldn’t be more content now that I have my answers.

his indirect answer to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question is enough for me to know where we stand.

I can’t help but to turn my body to face him, just to stare at his doe eyes that I easily get lost in due to the fact that they hold thousands of stars, if not a whole world in them.

regretfully, my eyes should’ve just maintained contact with doe-like eyelids. but rather, they drop their focus on the side of his neck, detecting a foreign lipstick shade that he might have forgotten to wipe off. a shade that will be tattooed in my brain and will forever hate.

Inhale. Exhale. I chose to shrug it off, bringing my attention back to his worn out face.

“I love you” truthfully and whole-heartedly confessed to him once more just like I always do. although this was a little bit different because I don’t expect him to say it back anymore.

and with that in mind, this was also the last night that I will to express my love for him.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Can you please do Slashers (Norman Bates, Patrick Bateman, Micheal, Jason, Brahms, Billy and Stu. You get the idea) with a, hear me out, a s/o who is just as if more out of pocket and crazy as they are, but here’s the catch their s/o aka you 🫵, don’t even realize how they are acting. (This was a 3 am woke up in the middle of the night with sweats kind of concept) But, do with that what you will.

💙💜🩵

Slashers x male reader

Headcanons

I don’t really know Norman, since I’ve never watched Psycho, and Patrick. I know Patrick somewhat at least a little cuz I’ve seen clips, so this is all based off wikis, so I hope it’s still good.

Norman Bates

Norman typically seems to have a more subdued and submissive personality, so for you two to be dating, his mom has to be out of the picture somehow. Maybe you guys still run the motel though.

Norman is possessive of you, not wanting to lose you. So you being just as possessive, if not more, in return, would probably tickle him pink even if he doesn’t want to express it. his second personality would enjoy it if you were just as violent too.

It doesn’t seem like Norman registers that hes got some issues himself, so he probably wouldn’t even notice that you had them too, or that you didn’t realize it either. You two are just two guys who are less than stable, but boy are you happy together in your little murder motel.

Patrick Bateman

You two would be like a house on fire, I think. Having someone just like himself if not worse, would only make Patrick more set in stone about his life and decisions. You two would end up clashing heads pretty regularly, since you both have such eccentric personalities, but then it goes back to being a loving relationship again.

You two are unhealthily co-dependent, and you just push each other to be your worst selves. Your worst, well dressed, manicured and intelligent selves. You guys are probably seen as kinda snobby or full of yourselves to everyone else, but you and Patrick have a great time.

You not realizing that you act this way would excite Patrick I think, since that’s the one up he has on you where you are more than him in every other way. It also excites him in other ways, since you are just like this, and this is who you are without all the debating on if this is right or not.

Michael Myers

You guys met at the asylum, that’s the only place I could imagine you two met. How you two got together I’m not sure, but it wouldn’t take long. You are both quiet and terrifying to be around, but it draws you together.

Neither of you talk much, which just results in you guys being able to communicate in silence. When you guys get out, it’s like a date for you two, going on another Halloween killing spree. If walking slowly around, knives in one hand, and holding the others hand in the other, counts as a date. Its romantic to you two, that’s all that matters.

I don’t think Michael himself really thinks about the way hes acting, so he wouldn’t think about it with you either. That’s just how he is, and how you are, and you go together like two misshapen bloody puzzle pieces.

Jason Voorhees

Jason is a serial killer, yes, but he’s also a nice guy if you look past all of that. So, if you are just chill like him most of the time, and partner up with him to get rid of the people who go where they shouldn’t go, then it would be a pretty nice relationship.

If you were even worse than him, then I could see him silently admiring you as you put together traps even, he didn’t think about. You not looking like Jason also means you can leave the forest to go into town and get different equipment, which just ups your game.

Jason doesn’t have much of an opinion on the fact that you don’t realize that you are worse than him, since this is also just the way he is and has been for who knows how many years. He likes that you are like him and that you aren’t scared of him.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is a huge fan that you are as bad as him or worse. Hes a little creep, so he would start salivating knowing you are watching him back, or seeing how you get rid of your ex on your own when they show up at the mansion.

You two are like gasoline on a fire for the other, since you just fuel the worst parts of each other in the best way, in your shared opinion. This means there’s no reason for Brahms to hide in the walls. He still likes doing it though, just so he can watch you, or you can come after him.

Like a good chunk of the others, Brahms doesn’t really register that he’s pretty messed up himself. Living in isolation for so long will do that to ya. So, it doesn’t really mean anything to him that you don’t realize how you’re acting. He just likes that you watch each other’s freak.

Billy Loomis

It excites Billy in multiple ways that you match his crazy. And by multiple ways, I mean it. It gets his blood pumping and gets him flustered to see you match his plans, or even push them further than he could have ever thought of.

You two are both horror movie obsessed bloodthirsty idiots, who both get way too excited about planning and committing the slashing. You just push each other to be worse, and to push the limits more and more. It makes you more likely to be caught, since you guys fuel each other.

To Billy its so hot that this is just how you are and that you don’t even really realize how you are acting, it’s like you are something walking right out of his deepest fantasies. But he’s has to be the voice of reason, and has to make sure you don’t let anything slip in public, just in case.

Stu Macher

Stu doesn’t seem to be the brightest guy out of the ghostface duo, so he’s probably just hyped that you match him, or go even further than him. If you go further than him, then I can imagine Stu also doing even more. Its kind of a cycle, you do something, and he follows.

It’s also what almost gets you guys caught multiple times, since you don’t really think your plans all the way through, since you both are just too excited and into what’s happening. Stu really likes the thrill of it all though, which leads to a lot of make out sessions.

Stu doesn’t really think about it much himself, that what he does is messed up and wrong, so I can’t imagine him thinking about how you act either. You two are kind of two halves of a whole idiot, and if Billy is around that he has to keep you guys on the right track so you don’t out yourselves or do something dumb.

[mahoushojo-chan]

Astarion x Tav || bed sharing

one forever won't be enough

synopsis: it's a habit they picked up from travelling together. every so often, astarion came to tav at night. it turned into something that he needs sometimes, even if he'd really rather not admit it. instead of lying in his old bunk, astarion chooses not to be alone.

an excerpt of "'cause my love (is mine, all mine)"

word count: 1203

pairing: astarion/tav

other tags: f!reader, bed sharing, tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort, non-sexual intimacy, romantic tension, late night conversations, friends to lovers, song inspo: where do i begin by Egg

ao3: here

concept: bed sharing

At night, Astarion lies in his old bunk. It’s rough, grating, and it creaks every time he shifts, and he’s pretty sure he couldn’t enter trance even if he tried. It’s telling that he would rather lay on a bedroll laid over hard rock than ‘his’ own bed, but the last time he laid in this bed, he was still a slave. Just Cazador’s spawn.

Somehow, it feels even emptier than back then. He doesn't have Petras sleeping in the top bunk, snoring loud enough for him to kick the mattress above. He doesn't have Dalyria in the bunk beside him, hiding a light underneath her sheets while she dove her research into the next topic. There isn't Leon in the corner, whispering sweet comforts to his little girl, Victoria. It’s too quiet all on his own.

Then, even with his new companions, he can't hear Gale patronizing Wyll about this or that kind of magic, he can't hear Karlach playing with Scratch or the Owlbear, and there is no occasional thump of Lae’zel’s late-night training. He had gotten used to all of it as some kind of white noise for the next dawn.

Besides, he thinks, he should get used to his nocturnal schedule again, so staying awake wouldn’t be too bad. It would keep the nightmares away, at least. He had enough of Cazador. He thinks of Tav, who he hopes is sleeping peacefully away.

In the dark, he has to confront the reality that he and Tav are worlds apart. He wonders if she’ll be able to adapt to this schedule.

The door to the Favoured Spawn room opens, the room that Tav had taken, with a quiet creak that only Astarion would hear. Then, the mattress dips, and a hesitant arm wraps around her waist and pulls Tav in as someone nestles in close.

“Mm… still awake, Star?” She mutters, though he’s more surprised to hear that she’s still awake.

“Yes.” Astarion replies in a whisper, because it feels like the night calls for whispers, even when the entire palace is empty.

It’s a habit they picked up from travelling together. Every so often, Astarion came to Tav to sleep. Tav knows that it first started after he first drank from her and she found herself exhausted enough to slip unconscious; but it turned into something that he needs sometimes, even though he’d really rather not admit it. Tav thought it would end after Astarion made it clear that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, and she decided to be friends, rather than lovers. It seemed to be what he needed at the time, but she also knows that this—whatever this is, lying in bed together, in the dark, holding each other and whispering—isn’t really something friends do. Astarion has never had any friends, but even he suspects this is something that is beyond friendship.

But this isn’t sexual, either. He can't think of a single conquest who he had done this with because this felt too vulnerable. This felt like a different reality, reframing what it meant to find comfort in the dark.

With a sigh, Tav turns around to face Astarion. He sees her eyes, heavy-lidded with sleep, and he brushes some hair out of her face. It’s never as awkward as it should be.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to face them.” Astarion whispers, truthful and defeated, because holding Tav in the darkness brings about a whole different world around him; one where he can tell Tav anything.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, Star.” She says, and it does something to his chest when she whispers his nickname in that tone, with that softness of sleep tinging her voice.

Astarion huffs out a whisper of a laugh. “I do want to. They’re… something like family, after all. They’re the closest thing I have to love.”

“I love you,” she protests, her voice still quiet. He knows this is not what friends do. They are in bed holding each other, now declaring love for each other, in the comfort of darkness. Astarion has never had anyone he had been this intimate with, even in the throes of passion, and he feels that he should think more about what this means.

“Fine, then. They’re the closest thing, other than you.” He drawls affectionately, feeling a tug at his lips even as he rolls his eyes. “But still, they’re not like you. I’m not like you. I can’t be good like you, and I’m afraid they know that. It feels like I’ll have to solve all of this world’s problems to be worthy of forgiveness, and even then, they would be right not to give it to me. They might never forgive me.”

“Then they’d be fools, the lot of them.” She says, and though she still sounds asleep, her eyes look at him with a sincerity he knows. If there’s one consistency about Tav’s behaviour, it’s that she has no patience for fools, and he can’t help but laugh.

A silence passes through them for a moment. “Do you think I’m evil?”

“No.” She says. “Even I’m not nearly as good as you think I am. Out of the two of us, you’re far more special. You make me think anything is possible.”

It’s odd because he can imagine saying the exact same thing to her. He wonders if she was just reading his thoughts and saying the words out loud, and if it was some sort of byproduct left by the mind-reading tadpole. But then again, he can’t at all understand why she would think he was special, and if they did still have the tadpoles, he would wish to see himself through her eyes. He wants to see what she sees in him—this brave, dashing, kind, supportive, heroic man, capable of love and goodness.

He wonders what would happen if he kissed her. 

Not that he was particularly sexually attracted to her, though he admits that objectively, she is attractive. He has a working pair of eyes and a good sense of taste, after all. And honestly, he doesn’t even know if she’s attracted to him—he thinks she might be, because Astarion hadn’t met many people who weren’t, but she also never asked him for anything sexual. Even their first night together, he always wondered if she had truly wanted it, or if he was just taking advantage of their desperate, life-or-death situation. All her intimacy seemed strictly… well, not exactly platonic, but not sexual, either. And it didn’t feel quite romantic, either.

But he wonders what she would do. What might she see? What might she feel?

He compromises by resting the crown of his head on hers, and quietly, he whispers, “Thank you for loving me.”

“Of course I would.” She replies, sounding fond, before closing her eyes. He can tell that sleep is about to take her again as she sighs, “Don’t worry about who you think you’ve got to be. Just be Astarion. It’s good enough.”

Her breaths even out, and he does his best to match her, taking in the air she exhales. He runs fingers through her hair again as she drifts to sleep.

[sundrop-writes]

My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

The joke's on you - we are salt and you are the wound.

Summary:

Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free.

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort. Can be read with or without considering the canon events.

Word Count: 9,600

The Last of Us Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronounces, the reader is a lesbian/does not date men, themes of abuse and abusive relationships, domestic abuse, ‘love at first sight’ trope, could be considered ‘soulmates’ trope, hurt and comfort, the reader is being abused by a family member and is saved by Ellie,the reader is being emotionally and physically abused by a family member, evidence of emotional manipulation/brainwashing in the reader character, the reader character has injuries from physical abuse, trauma, becoming free from abuse, depictions of violence (fist fighting between Ellie and the abuser), mentions of guns and gun violence, there is elements of Joel and Ellie’s relationship in the background and this could be read with or without considering the canon events (their emotional falling out), mentions of alcohol, drugging someone against their will (done toward the abuser), threatening someone’s genitals with a knife (done toward the abuser), kidnapping and intimidation through violent threats (done toward the abuser), mentions of hanging/choking/suffocation, use of lesphobic slurs (I think ‘rug muncher’ is the only one?) (from the abuser towards Ellie), Joel and Ellie making a kidnapping (and potentially murder) plot together, this has a happy/hopeful ending. 

A/N: Another re-post of a fic I really, really love. This one is particularly deeply personal to me. Whenever I write about the concept of abuse, it’s very emotional for me, but this one has some more personal touches - because it is about abuse coming from a family member and how it can be difficult to part from that because you rely on them for survival and resources that keep you alive. Often times when people think about abuse - or when abusive relationships are modelled in media, it is a romantic relationship, and they display how a person can go from sweet and romantic and turn into a monster, and how it manipulates the victims emotions and makes it difficult for them to leave. And I do think that is an important story to tell, but one equally important - the story of an abuser who is a constant in your life, and makes you dependent on them for survival, and it causes you to rationalise all of their poor actions and behaviour because you need them. You want them to be a good person in your mind because you don’t know how to sustain your life without them.

Another deeply personal touch on this fic - the title. It is titled after a Fall Out Boy song, and you guys might know - I fucking love Fall Out Boy. I feel like all of their songs have a direct cord to my soul. But this one in particular is so special and tender for me. I was struggling with what to title this fic, and I was going through a playlist of songs that I listen to frequently - and this one came up. Although I believe the original intent of this song is about a cheating spouse, for me, it brings up feelings of how I think of my abuser. Especially the lines ‘I’m the kind of kid that can’t let anything go, and you wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and split your throat’ and 'this is me wishing you in to the worst situations’.

I feel like it is very accurate, because Ellie is someone who is very 'wearing her heart on her sleeve’ and through this fic, she wants to be emotionally detached and leave the situation alone, but she can’t. And it turns her heart into this weapon against her, and ultimately, against the abuser. Because it is only of the fact that she cares so much about y/n that she wants to hurt the guy at all. And it also works to describe y/n’s feelings, because she hates that she has emotional attachment to her abuser, but she does, and it makes her feel as though her heart is a weapon against herself. So yeah. I hope you enjoy this fic, and if you relate to it somehow, I hope you can heal.

...

Ellie didn’t believe in love at first sight. 

She was the type of person who thought it was cheesy - some made-up bullshit built for movies and books to sell people on the type of story that would never actually happen. She founded herself on facts, and though she knew realistically it would never happen in her lifetime, she thought that space travel was far more factual than something like love at first sight. 

Until she met you. 

And yeah, it probably wasn’t love - at least not true love - until later on. But there had to be some reason that she stuck her neck out for you like that. There had to be something drawing her to you like that. Maybe it was that fabled invisible string. That unspoken thing that made her want to die and want to kill for you, especially within the first ten minutes of meeting you. 

You were with a group taking refuge in Jackson. In such a small town, rumors were rampant. The group had been in town for less than a day and people were already whispering about whether or not Maria was going to take in such a large number of people on such short notice. 

Personally, Ellie didn’t care. She knew that Jackson had the resources to support new people and she knew that Maria would make the right decision. She was a good leader; she would sense if the group were good enough people to stay or not. She wouldn’t knowingly let in any dangers. 

But then, Ellie started to care very suddenly, very much - when she met you. 

When she saw you, the very first thing she noticed was your smile. She didn’t think she had ever seen someone smile with such intense, genuine joy. It was something that instantly twisted her gut into knots - filled her with those cartoonish butterflies as she took in the sight of you. 

You were standing along the edge of one of the fences, near a small, green pasture for the animals in town. It was a small wooden fence that came up to your hips, around an area that was sectioned off to keep the baby cows in so they could graze. You were leaning on the wooden panels, admiring those little cows with awe, a smile on your face a mile wide as you watched the animals stumble around happily in the field. It was a beautiful spring day, with a light breeze kissing against your skin, and plenty of bright green grass for the cows to snack on. It made the sun seem so much brighter with your smile under it.

Ellie couldn’t help but find herself drawn to you. 

She was supposed to be on her way to return her rifle to the gun shed after patrol. But instead, her feet carried her to you, almost entirely against her will. And soon she found herself standing barely a foot away from you, leaning on that same fence with one hand and staring at you with a big idiotic smile of her own. 

You gave a small jolt when you finally took your eyes off the cows and noticed her staring. Ellie panged with guilt. She hadn’t realized how unintentionally creepy she was being. She didn’t know that it was a programmed response on your part - an ingrained jumpiness that you couldn’t help. 

She swallowed around the dryness in her throat, struggling for words, and she was thankful when you spoke first. 

“You guys have everything here.” You said, bright and excited as you put your eyes back on the grazing pasture. “It’s the first time I’ve seen baby cows before.” 

“We - uh - we also have sheep.” Ellie tripped over herself to say this, shouldering the strap of her rifle to point beyond to a spot where the sheep’s pasture could not be seen. “And there’s greenhouses, and horses. My horse is named Shimmer. You can come and meet her if you want!” 

Ellie almost felt stupid, rushing to say all of this, rushing to impress you. If you liked Jackon’s plentiful resources, then perhaps if she pressed just how fantastic and resource filled the place was, you would want to stay. 

She found herself wanting you to stay. Very badly. 

You bit your lip, slightly shy, and let out a nervous giggle. You didn’t want to turn her down. But years of warnings in a closed off echo chamber had made you weary of strangers. Even seemingly kind ones. 

“That would be nice.” You told her quietly. “Maybe later.” 

Ellie thought she was coming on too strong. She kicked herself internally because of it. 

She had no idea that you were hesitant to be friendly - hesitant to get too close because of the ‘consequences’ you had seen in the past. In your eyes, Ellie seemed like a lovely, friendly person, but you didn’t want to get hurt for trying to make friends. Even if you felt a spark of attraction towards her, you could never pursue it. You didn’t have the room to do so. 

Ellie simply nodded at you, the pain of rejection curling in her gut as she began to walk off. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard it. 

Yelling - a brute voice disrupting your peace. 

When Ellie turned around, there was a man. Someone who would have been otherwise average in his looks, if not for the violence he wore so boldly, obviously uncaring of who saw him. His face was tight with anger as he crowded into your personal space, grabbing a hold of your wrist and screaming at you relentlessly as though you had greatly offended him. 

She wondered how someone like you - someone so sweet, who took wonder in baby cows, could ever do something to warrant such a visceral reaction of anger from someone. 

Ellie gripped her rifle tightly. 

A voice in her mind told her that it was none of her business, but another quickly argued back and said that you didn’t deserve to be treated like this. It said that she should step in. She felt frozen as the two sides warred inside her. For a few moments, she simply watched on, taking in the one-sided conflict between you and this man with horror swimming inside of her. 

Your reaction was the worst part. 

Your face immediately shifted from that excitement, awe, and wonder that the baby cows gave you and contorted into pure pain. Tears welled up in your eyes and pure fear overtook your entire body. Your spine coiled up, as if to protect your internal organs, but you made no real moves to get away from this man. 

He spouted at you about ‘wandering off’ and ‘what have I told you before’, ranting on and on as if you had made some horrible mistake by taking time out of your day to admire a grazing pasture full of animals. Ellie was just about to unlock her knees and charge over there to do something about it when a vial, angry eye caught hers over your shoulder. 

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” He barked at Ellie. 

Those simple words were all it took to trigger something in Ellie. 

At a moment’s notice, all of her logic flew out the window, and she found herself consumed by the impulse of her rage instead. She shed off the strap of her rifle, leaving the heavy object on the ground behind her in case it might impede her as she barreled toward the man like a raging bull. 

“Why don’t you tell me, asshole?!” Ellie fired back, entirely nonsensical. 

But both of them, ill-tempered, were beyond talking at that point. 

He stepped around you and went to open his mouth again and Ellie took a swing. She easily made contact with his jaw, but he absorbed it well. Her knuckles stung as she pulled back and landed another hit on his cheek, most definitely leaving a nasty bruise. 

Ellie was caught off guard when a large fist collided with her face. 

She would never be the type to say that men shouldn’t hit women simply on principle. Especially not in this case, because she had swung first. 

She was shocked simply because of the sheer force behind the hit. It wasn’t just to get her off of him - it was vengeful. 

Though her skull was rattled, when he moved his hand up again, Ellie caught his wrist and hit him again. Still feeling that blinding rage, she took him to the ground. His nose felt like mush under her knuckles and she wouldn’t have stopped - if not for someone forcefully pulling her off of him. 

She wanted to yell when she found out that someone was Tommy. But he quickly dampened any of her protests. 

Tommy then gave her a long lecture about ‘first impressions’ and handling her temper during ‘misunderstandings’. He told her that being a part of their family meant that even unintentionally, she represented Jackson as a whole. Regrettably, Ellie felt guilt curling in her stomach because of his words. Even if the guy had it coming, she hated Joel or Tommy looking down on her with disappointment. 

And some time during that long, droning speech, you and that man slipped away. Ellie had a very bad feeling in her gut because of it. 

She had a feeling that he was nothing but a cause of pain for you. 

But of course, she had no outright proof of that. Aside from your tears. But you weren’t even there to tell Tommy your story. And what story was that? That you had been yelled at? How the hell did that substantiate Ellie beating a man up? 

She had nothing more to go on than a gut feeling. 

So rather than telling Tommy about any of the things she suspected, she accepted everything she had said, she apologized for losing her cool, and then (after he gave her a hug, patted her on the head and said ‘it’s okay, kiddo’) - she turned and walked away. 

When she returned her rifle to the gunshed, Jesse asked if something had happened on patrol to cause the bruises on her face and make her expression so sickly, and she quickly shrugged him off. 

Ellie felt intensely guilty for not doing something more. She felt bad for not simply asking you what was wrong, for not handling the situation like a real human being. She had no clue why she couldn’t simply be calm when she saw you so upset like that. 

She didn’t even really know you. She just had a feeling that you were too good to be treated like that. Something deep in her gut was screaming that you did nothing to deserve it. 

The group you came in with split up. Some of them made their way down to the coast with the intention of fishing, perhaps finding and fixing up an old boat, and some of them stayed. 

Ellie took notice when you and the man who had yelled at you stayed. 

She also took notice of the fact that whenever she saw you around town, that man was never very far from you. And whenever he lingered around you, you were much different from the girl she had met that day near the pasture. You were slumped down, never rising to your full posture, constantly tense, and incredibly quiet. You never spoke a single word to anyone other than that awful man. You never even made eye contact with other people. 

Ellie spent weeks watching you from afar, attempting to see if you were okay, looking for some ‘evidence’ that you weren’t. Some hard proof that she could bring to Tommy and Maria, something to show that she wasn’t insane for attacking that man. And it wasn’t until the spring rolled into summer, and Ellie’s bruises from the incident had faded, that she found time to speak to you again. 

There was a time when Ellie caught you without your ugly shadow - when you were by the coops, feeding the chickens, imitating their clucking and laughing to yourself. 

“I think you’ve got a career as a chicken caller.” Ellie chuckled as she walked toward you. 

You smiled when you looked up and saw her. 

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “I just like them because if they say mean things to me, I don’t have to know.” 

Ellie felt a lump rise up in her throat at the pain behind your words. 

It left an awkward, painful silence for a moment before you spoke up again. 

“Look, I’m sorry about before.” You told her. “If you thought you had to defend me, or…” You continued staring at the grainy feed on the ground, pointedly not looking at Ellie. “I piss him off. Often. He was just having a bad day, and I-” 

“That’s no excuse for him to yell at you like that.” Ellie cut you off. She rushed to get the words out, desperate for you to know this at the truth. “He’s got a temper, doesn’t he?” 

“So do you.” You chuckled. It wasn’t genuine laughter. 

There was a twinge of fear in your voice. It made her nauseous. She never wanted you to fear her the same way that you clearly feared that horrible man. 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie said quietly, intense guilt overtaking her. “I do genuinely apologize if I scared you. I just… I couldn’t stand to see you crying like that.” 

“I totally get it.” You snorted, painful humor lingering in your voice. “It’s so annoying. But… sometimes I can’t help it.” Though you kept your voice steady, these simple words spoke volumes of pain. 

Ellie wanted to ask why. She wanted to ask if there were more days when he pushed you to tears. 

“I’m sorry that I’m such a crybaby.” You told her. You tried to laugh this off, as though it was just a funny trait of your personality, and not a fault of pain being inflicted onto you. 

Ellie shook her head vigorously. 

“No.” She quickly corrected you. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Confusion knitted over your features. Ellie fought hard to find the words to explain it. 

“I was angry because he made you cry.” She explained. “I was pissed off because he upset you, and - and, I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know you. But you don’t deserve that.” 

Hearing those words for the first time was a truth so radical it almost tore the ground from underneath your feet. After years of being told that you weren’t worth the trouble - that the food you consumed was a burden, that the bullets used to protect you were a waste - being told for the first time that you didn’t deserve such treatment… you felt like the words didn’t belong in your ears. 

“What?” You looked at her with pure shock overtaking your expression, a most genuine and raw reaction. “You really care that much about me being upset?” 

This gripped Ellie’s insides worse than anything else. You could barely conceptualize someone caring about your feelings this genuinely. 

“Yeah.” She admitted quietly. “I do care.” 

This left your face tight with contemplation, intense thought. Ellie didn’t want to leave room for you to get too caught up in it, for you to overanalyze her genuine gesture. So she came up with something else. 

“So… did you still wanna meet my horse? Maybe we could take her out for a ride?” Ellie posed. 

You seemed hesitant. But eventually, you decided ‘fuck it’ - you might as well have some fun. Especially if it meant spending some time with someone who actually seemed to care about you. 

Ellie took you to the stables and introduced you to Shimmer, and officially introduced you to herself, as you did in return - which seemed odd after all that had happened. But it was nice to finally have a name to go with your pretty face. It was nice to finally hear your laughter as Ellie made an age old joke about hay and horses. 

After you took a while to pet the horse and get acquainted with her, Ellie got permission to go past the gate. She took you on a slow trot on the outskirts of Jackson. She had butterflies curling in her stomach the whole time as you gripped her waist, sitting on the back of the horse, and you smiled brightly and complemented how peaceful everything was. 

When the two of you got back from the ride, you kissed Ellie on the cheek, and she nearly squealed with happiness. 

And then, she didn’t see you for nearly a week afterwards. 

She thought she had done something wrong, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with that awful man who barely let you out of his sight. 

The next time she did see you, you were walking along closely behind that wicked man, your eyes low to the ground. And when she called out your name, you didn’t look up to greet her. 

The sweet summer turned into fall and Ellie felt the guilt gnawing at her more, especially when she noticed the days or even weeks when you didn’t seem to come outside. Days when you didn’t show up to do your chores and were supposedly sick, days when nobody else seemed to care why you were missing. 

There was that voice in her head. ‘She’s just a girl.’ The voice said. ‘It’s just a crush. It’s none of your business. You should just move on.’ 

Ellie couldn’t bring herself to listen to that voice. For some reason, she felt this thing gnawing deep in her gut - something that said you needed her. 

Against her better judgment, Ellie went to the house she knew you were staying at, and knocked on the door. 

She wasn’t surprised when you answered. You peeked through the door with only half your face showing, utterly terrified. 

“What are you doing here?” You barked.

Ellie had a feeling that your anger was a formation of fear, and it wasn’t entirely directed at her. 

“I was worried about you.” Ellie admitted shyly. 

You opened the door further, hesitantly, and then pulled Ellie inside before you shut the door and closed all the locks. Ellie felt her stomach twist when she noticed you looking through the curtains, as though you were afraid for your life, looking out for danger. 

Ellie had a distinct feeling that she knew what that danger was. 

A giant lump formed in Ellie’s throat when you turned around and she saw it - that black eye, swollen and bruised, glaring at her. It was the part of your face you had been blocking with the other half of the door. There were other things she couldn’t see. Scrapes and bruises and hand shapes swats over your arms and torso, covered by your purposefully baggy sweatshirt with long sleeves. 

“Just stop.” You said, turning to Ellie, your voice quaking with the intensity of your emotions. “Stop worrying about me.” 

Ellie’s jaw tensed. She would find that intensely difficult - practically impossible. 

“No.” She easily told you so. “I care about y-” 

“Stop.” You said, a harsh cry in your throat. 

It was too painful for you to consider. The idea that someone sweeter and nicer existed in the world and cared for you. The idea that the way of life you had known for years wasn’t the only way to survive. 

“Look, I like you.” You added on. “You’re really sweet. But you don’t want me. I’m sure you can find someone else-” 

Ellie stepped forward, her fingers brushing so gently over your cheek, right underneath the swelling of that awful black eye. You were so entirely startled by the pure gentleness of the touch that you let out a choked off sound from the back of your throat, almost a sob. 

“He did this to you?” Ellie asked, her voice deadly calm and quiet. 

You refused to answer. 

“Is he your fucking boyfriend?” She prodded, her voice even sharper and more offended now. 

You scoffed, pulling away from her touch. You thought she was jealous of the idea of you having a romantic partner. But in fact, she was deeply offended at the universe, she was in turmoil at the idea that someone would even consider hurting you when they claimed to love you. 

“My brother.” You told her, the word almost sounding like poison on your tongue. “I would never choose someone like him. But I’ve been stuck with him for as long as I can remember.” 

“Oh.” Ellie said quietly. 

It was not a possibility she had considered. But she knew that there had never been any romantic connotations to the interactions between the two of you. Only danger, intimidation, and pain. 

It was almost a worse fate, in a sense. The idea that you had been saddled with him because of genetics, that you couldn’t escape him because of obligation, or being forced to survive together.  

“Yeah, oh.” You repeated, tears clutching the inside of your throat. “And really, it’s none of your business. He’s always taken care of me. He takes care of me, so-” 

“This is not taking care of you.” Ellie argued sharply, gesturing to the mark on your face. “If you need someone to take care of you, I’m right here.” 

You rolled your eyes at this. Again, you thought it was jealousy. That it was her trying to make herself seem appealing as a romantic partner. 

You didn’t know that she was serious, that she would give you the world on a silver platter if given the chance. 

“And I sure as hell won’t hit you.” Ellie added on. 

“That’s easy for you to say.” You scoffed. 

“That’s easy for me to do.” She fired back. “Not beating the people you love is the bare fucking minimum. In case no one ever told you that.” 

Her last words were intensely sharp, but struck a chord deep inside of you. It caused your stomach to churn with harsh realization, something you probably already knew that was brought to the surface and waved in your face:

This was not a life that everyone lived. 

“I can’t do this right now.” You huffed quietly, shaking your head. 

You were still swimming deep in denial, hating the idea that your life was founded entirely on pain. But Ellie would fight through all of that pain to get to you. 

“Come on, how long is it gonna be before he kills you?” She asked, the words quiet but devastatingly striking. 

You remained painfully silent. 

“What kind of life is this for you?” She spoke up when you did not reply. “There’s so much more out there for you that doesn’t involve your asshole brother.” 

“Look, you know nothing about him.” You said sharply. “You don’t know what kind of life he’s had. You don’t know what he’s been through. What we’ve been through. Some of the things he’s saved me from.” 

Ellie could only imagine what was going through your mind. Obviously, she had seen some of the darker things the world was capable of. She knew that if your brother had saved you from some of those horrors, it made him look like a saint by comparison. 

She wanted to scream that you didn’t have to go through this. Life didn’t have to be like this. Absorbing his hits and being a target for his anger wasn’t necessary for your survival. 

“Usually it’s my fault anyway.” You sighed. “I meant what I said before. I have some weird talent for pissing him off.” 

Ellie was downright insulted at this. 

“It is not your fault.” She rushed to say, her throat straining with the intense passion behind the words. 

You found it difficult to believe her. 

Any reply you could have mustered was drowned out by the sound of heavy boots coming up the porch. 

“Get out.” You barked at Ellie, panicked. “Get out, you have to leave.” 

You shoved Ellie out the back door before she could argue, and the sound of more screaming and an ugly collision of a hand on flesh made Ellie clench her fists to avoid charging back inside. She had to tell herself one simple thing - she wouldn’t be able to explain a murder to Maria or Tommy. 

She wouldn’t have to. 

And there was maybe only one other person in town who would understand. 

She went right from your place to Joel’s, and he seemed too pleased about her being there in order for him to really question it. He seemed even more pleased when she asked for his help. 

When Ellie explained the situation, she was surprised that Joel didn’t want to take it to Maria. But they both knew that she was diplomatic. She had an entire town to think of. She couldn’t be chasing down people’s personal problems, and she couldn’t be known for doling out vigilante justice. She had to make people in Jackson feel safe, and she didn’t think that civilian trials and public executions would be the way to do that. And as far as Ellie knew, nobody in Jackson had ever acted up like this before. Maybe they were just good at keeping it a secret. (That thought scared her more than anything.) 

Joel suggested something about a quiet smothering and a shovel. Nobody would ever find the guy’s body, he reasoned. 

Ellie didn’t want it that way. Even if the guy was a piece of shit, he was your only family. She knew that in some fucked up way, you would miss him. 

No - it needed to be his choice. And he wasn’t going to make the right choice on his own. So they had to guide him to it. Well, they had to force him to it and shove his face in the damn right choice. 

And then, if he didn’t make the right choice - then they would go to Joel’s version, a Plan B, and they would get the shovel. 

Her and Joel talked it over for hours, making a solid Plan A. When they were both finally satisfied, Ellie left out the back door to head to her place to finally crash for the night - when had it gotten dark out? 

She paused in her tracks when she saw you standing at the bottom of the few stairs that led up to the porch. 

You had a large sweatshirt hood pulled up over your head, and in the minimal light from the back door’s bulb, Ellie could see that your eyes were entirely startled. Your cheek was sporting a fresh, wicked bruise that hadn’t been there before. Your lip was busted, and you had the neck of the sweater pulled up, half hiding some marks on your neck. 

Clearly your brother had come home furious about something. Perhaps he had seen Ellie leaving. She partially felt guilty about it, and definitely felt more secure in her plan. 

“I - uh - I ran into Dina, and she said I could find you here.” You said, motioning off to where you must have spoken to Dina, muttering nervously because Ellie had been standing there for a few moments staring you down with sadness in her eyes and had not spoken. “I was gonna knock. But… I…” 

‘I got nervous.’ The words were lost on your tongue. You knew it sounded strange. Being afraid to knock. Being afraid to ask for help. 

Ellie walked down the steps to meet you on the ground, and you didn’t move away when she reached up and brushed a gentle thumb across your lip - not quite touching the area when it had been split open, but clearly scorning it in her mind. 

She wanted to suggest something about running away, but she knew Joel would just come after her. The easier solution would simply be to get rid of the awful man who had done this to you. 

You grabbed her wrist and leaned into her hand. She cupped your cheek then, holding you so tenderly that it almost hurt. Your body was so unfamiliar with sweetness, with comfort. 

“I can’t do this.” You sobbed quietly. “Ellie, I can’t do this.” 

You weren’t feeling brave enough to leave the familiar, the thing that bound you in pain and torment. 

“Yes, you can.” Ellie told you firmly. 

She gently tilted your head up, forcing your gaze toward hers. 

“Ask me.” She told you. 

You both knew what it meant. 

‘Ask me for my help.’ 

‘Ask me to get rid of that monster, and I will.’ 

You let it bubble inside of you. The words swelled up inside of your throat, and a wicked sob escaped, causing hot tears to leak down and touch Ellie’s hand before you got it out. 

“Help me.” You croaked. “Please.” 

“I will.” Ellie told you firmly. “I’ll get rid of him.” 

She leaned in then and planted a kiss on your forehead, something sweet enough to render another sob from your throat. When she moved to pull away, you reached around and grabbed the back of her shirt, clutching on tight to keep her there, pulling her into a hug and holding her to savor the precious temporary moment you were able to be away from your tormentor. 

“Ellie?” You said her name, and she hummed a response, still leaning with her lips gently pressed against your forehead. “I know - I know it’s so stupid. But… I don’t want him dead.” You told her. Ellie had predicted as much. “I just… I want him gone.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Ellie assured you. “I understand.” 

By the time Ellie got everything together, the cold was just setting in. 

The first snowfall had just hit Jackson, and she had made sure to keep a close eye on you in the interim. You told her over and over again that you were going to be fine. 

A few times you even went back on your ask, you told her that you and your brother were getting along much better. Ellie’s gut churned on the days when you smiled and told her that things between you and your brother were getting much better, that he was making an effort to control his temper, that you could see him making ‘big changes’. 

On for another fresh wound to show up on you and when she would ask you about it, you broke down crying and declared that it was all your stupid fault. 

Ellie knew that he was never going to change. And it only made her more firm in her convictions to carry through with the plan that she and Joel had carefully laid out. 

Gathering the supplies needed for her plan wasn’t as hard as she originally thought. 

The pharmacy in Jackson was surprisingly easy to steal from. She found a pharmaceutical journal in the library; finding out which drugs could knock out a grown man and memorizing the names of them - not that hard. 

And then Ellie took an easy fall during one of her patrols, wincing and whining about the pain in her twisted wrist far more than she felt it, getting the nurse to unlock the drug cabinet to give her some tylenol with codeine. Then she ‘accidentally’ knocked over a tray with a bunch of stray pieces on it, and she got what she needed out of the unlocked cupboard like clockwork. 

She wasn’t sure if the people in Jackson were naive, or if she was far too used to being a criminal. 

Her wrist had healed up nicely by the time everything else was ready.  

Joel thought it would be wisest that they use his basement. 

He explained to Ellie that they could use an old military technique - shut out all the light, take away anything potentially familiar about the room, make it naked and bare and anonymous so that it would seem like a random place that could be anywhere. 

It would be right in town, but the prospect of seeming so far off, so ‘in the middle of nowhere’ - it would be a good part of the scare tactic. They spent some time cleaning out the basement, putting garbage bags over the windows, and draping the room in plastic tarping - partially to scare him, and partially, just in case. 

Joel got a bottle of cheap whiskey that he watered down some, and Ellie poured out the bottle of pills onto the counter with the intention to crush them all up and mix them with the alcohol. 

“Christ Ellie, that’s enough to take down a goddamn horse.” Joel commented. 

Clearly, it was too many pills. 

Ellie took a handful of them - half, and put them back in the original bottle. When she looked up at Joel again, he shook his head. Still too many? 

“Here, let me.” He said, gently shouldering her out of the way so he could make the mixture himself. 

“You act like you’ve done this before.” She commented. 

“You act surprised that I’ve done this before.” He replied. 

He did have a point. Especially considering that when Joel had met Ellie, he had likely been expecting her to be a large bag of drugs, and not a child who needed to be smuggled. 

Joel put back a much bigger portion of the pills, only leaving four tablets that he began to crush up to be mixed in with the drink. 

“The alcohol is gonna magnify the effects of this stuff. A lot.” Joel explained, emphasizing the last words. “You kept saying you didn’t wanna kill him. So you don’t need to give him an overdose.” 

Ellie nodded. It was a good point. She felt lucky to have his help with this. 

Joel scraped the crushed up tablets - now a powder - into the bottle, and put his thumb over the opening to seal it while he shook it up, making sure it was well dissolved before he put the cap back on. 

“Remember. Pour one for yourself, but don’t fucking drink from it.” Joel reminded her. 

It was a mental tactic. Pour two glasses, so as to not seem suspicious, but don’t take a sip. 

Joel handed her the bottle, and they walked over to your place. 

Ellie made sure that Dina was keeping you busy with spare chores, things she supposedly couldn’t do without your help, ensuring that you would be out of the house for the night and wouldn’t miss your brother gone. Ellie went around to the front door and Joel went to the back, waiting for her signal. 

She knocked on the front door and when your brother answered, she waved the bottle. She apologized for the two of them having gotten off ‘on the wrong foot’ when he first came into town. She claimed that she wanted to set things right with him. 

He looked her up and down with suspicion, but opened the door. He fetched a couple of glasses and Ellie did as Joel instructed - poured one for herself after she poured one for him, took it in her hand, but didn’t sip from it. 

He eagerly knocked the first drink back and Ellie hated the fact that he didn’t pass out right away. He poured himself a second and she forced herself to make an attempt at conversation. 

She asked about one of the pictures he had on the mantle over the fireplace - a framed photo of him and some woman. He grunted, saying that it was ‘his bitch’ but ‘she was dead now’. The way he spoke about women made Ellie want to hurl. This caused the conversation to lull into him asking if Ellie had a boyfriend. 

She shrugged it off. Especially seeing as he didn’t seem like the most accepting type if she told him why she didn’t have one. Then he looked her up and down as though he was inspecting her. As though just because she didn’t have a man in her life, that made her an available prospect for him. Ellie clutched her glass so hard she thought it cracked. 

He took more gulps of his drink, and then he mentioned you. He said that he had seen Ellie talking to you. 

He wasn’t clever about his intentions. He wanted to know why someone who was clearly friendly toward his sister wanted to be on his good side all of a sudden. 

Before she could make up some lie, the drugs kicked in. He became hazy, and made a slurred thought about his liquor tolerance being higher normally before he dropped to the floor, out cold. 

Ellie knocked on the back door for Joel, and they had his unconscious body halfway down the basement stairs when Tommy’s voice came into the house, shouting for Joel. They both gave each other that ‘oh shit’ look and Joel dropped the man’s head like a sack of potatoes. He rushed up the stairs to talk to Tommy before his brother could come to them. 

Ellie dragged the dead weight the rest of the way, and she listened as the voices carried through the house. Joel was getting called out for an emergency patrol route - a large horde of Infected had been spotted near the west watch tower. 

Tommy asked for Ellie too, but Joel lied and said that he hadn’t seen her. 

As Joel was gathering his things to leave, he went to the top of the basement stairs. He gave Ellie one last firm, knowing look. It was an out. She knew that if she wanted to, he would stay back and help her clean up the mess, and they would find some other way to go about things so she wouldn’t have to go it alone. 

But she was firm in her convictions. 

“I’ve got this.” She told him, giving him a nod. 

He nodded back and then closed the basement door. 

She picked a steady beam in the ceiling. 

She dangled off it with her body weight to make sure it wouldn’t budge (even though your asshole brother was probably a good hundred pounds heavier than her). And then she put him in the noose Joel had tied, with the rope tied precariously around the beam. 

She had more than enough slack on it to make sure that he wouldn’t choke while still unconscious from the drugs. As tempting as it was to simply kill the man who had been abusing you for years, this was about scaring him. This was a warning. An attempt to get him to make the right choice. His hands were tied behind his back, making him unable to get away. 

As he came around to consciousness, he began to groan and squirm, and Ellie wasted no time in putting her plan into action. 

She went to where she had the other end of the rope tied, fashioned to some hook that might have been used to hang up tools or something else at one point, and she untied it and hoisted him up. He choked furiously as his breath was cut off by the noose, and Ellie made sure he was far enough off the ground before she grabbed something else important - the stool. 

When preparing, Joel had intentionally cut off two of the legs, making it wobbling and unsteady. She put it underneath him and guided his legs to it, and then he took a wheezing breath as the pressure was released from his neck while his feet wobbled on it unsteadily. 

“What the fuck?” He barked out, obviously trying to sound intimidating when he was so breathless. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re fucking insane!” 

Ellie took a step back, looking up at him with a neutral expression. He was entirely powerless. He couldn’t swing and hit her, he couldn’t run. If he jumped, he would hang himself. He was completely at her mercy, and he had to listen to what she had to say. 

In regards to the question, she shrugged. 

“Maybe.” She said simply. “I just wanna talk.” 

“Oh, you wanna talk?!” He growled out the words in anger, still trying to sound lager and more powerful than he was. 

And then, all too predictably, he swung out his leg in an attempt to kick her. 

Ellie easily dodged it, and the motion made him unsteady on the stool. Both his legs fell off, and she simply watched as he struggled, hanging freely by the noose for a few moments. He sputtered and choked, kicking around frantically to get his feet back on the stool. It was a wonder that he didn’t knock it over. 

Eventually, he did get back up to stand on it before he passed out. He continued to choke on the air, veins bulging in his face from the effort. All while Ellie stood back, arms crossed, staring at him condescendingly. 

“That was stupid.” She commented quietly. 

“Fuck you!” He choked out. 

“Look, the way I see it, you have two choices. Maybe three.” Ellie explained. 

He glared at her with absolute poison in his eyes, but remained silent and still, other than the tremors in his legs as he struggled to balance on the stool. 

“Option one: you continue being a petty bitch, so I leave you here.” She told him simply. “You can test your endurance for a few hours, maybe even a few days. But no one will find you, if they come looking at all. And eventually, your legs will give out from exhaustion and you’ll hang.” 

“Y/N will come for me.” He replied confidently. The devilish smirk that spread across his face gave Ellie the urge to smack him. 

“No.” Ellie argued, just as quick, just as confident. “You really think Y/N is gonna be able to find you?” 

This was the mind game Joel had talked about. He was right in Jackson, right under your nose. Would he shout for help, or would he believe that he was out in the middle of nowhere, stranded somewhere that you would never be able to find him? 

His silence was all too telling. Ellie resisted the urge to smile, knowing how important a firm, intimidating face was in this situation. 

“Option two,” She continued on, taking his silence as a sure sign that he didn’t like option one. “You can listen to what I have to say, and you can get agreeable about it real fast.” 

“What’s option three?” He asked. 

Of course, he didn’t like option two either. He didn’t like being agreeable. 

But Ellie had a feeling that in a few minutes, option two would be the one that he’d beg for. 

“You say something I don’t like,” She got her switchblade out of her back pocket, and clicked the switch to show off the sharp, shiny blade. “And then I kill you.” 

There was a pointed moment of silence as he looked between the sharp point of her knife and her unforgiving, deadly calm expression. For a moment, his enraged face wavered, and then came fear. It was just a flicker, but Ellie saw it as weakness. And she was going to exploit it. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He barked. 

“It’s very simple.” Ellie explained. “Leave Y/N the fuck alone. Get your shit, leave town, and get as far away from her as possible.” 

“That’s my sister.” He argued. “That’s my blood. You can’t just expect me to abandon the only family I have, I-” 

“If you respected her as your family, you wouldn’t fucking beat her.” Ellie cut him off, the words turning to poison on her tongue. 

He looked intensely caught in that moment, his expression becoming ghostly. As if he somehow hadn’t figured out that this whole thing was about his abusive ways. 

“What? You don’t like me ‘cause I protect her? ‘Cause I look out for her?” He immediately switched, swelling into that self righteous, taunting person he was with you. “You wanna fuck her, don’t you? You fucking self righteous rug muncher, think you know what’s better for my own sister than I do! What the hell is wrong with you? You-” 

As he ranted, Ellie stepped forward and hesitantly grabbed the waistband of his pants. Clearly, the message wasn’t getting through to him. 

And though it was something more disgusting to her than blood, guts, viscera, even the smell of an old moldy building - Ellie yanked down his pants in one swift movement, trying to ignore the sight of it in front of her. She placed her switchblade right at the spot where his dick met his inner thigh, simply resting it there. 

The feeling of the cold metal in such a sensitive spot easily shut him up. His stomach clenched as he held his breath, likely waiting for Ellie to cut him. 

With him on the stool, it was hovering at around eye level, and she tried her hardest not to look directly at it. For you, it was worth it. That’s what she told herself. 

“Listen carefully,” Ellie told him, her voice still low, still deadly calm. “You are going to agree to my terms, or they’re going to find your body missing this.” She threatened him, gently nudging the blade upwards, not yet cutting into flesh. 

He gasped, shock and horror crashing through his system. He continued to struggle with balancing on the stool, struggling not to lean into the knife by accident and maim himself by mistake. 

He looked at Ellie with terror in his eyes, but oddly enough, he didn’t say anything. Ellie considered it progress. 

“I’m going to be very generous,” She said lowly, making it sound like a threat. “You have twenty four hours to get your shit, and get the hell out of Jackson. I don’t give a fuck what you tell Y/N. In fact, you don’t have to tell her anything at all. Just disappear. I don’t care where you go. Just get the fuck away from here. The farther, the better.” 

Ellie paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. 

“If you’re still in town by sundown tomorrow, I will kill you.” She said. “If you tell Y/N about this little incident, I will kill you. If I see Y/N later and she has a single scratch on her-” 

“You’ll kill me.” He quickly finished off the sentence as he thought she would say it. 

Ellie shook her head, putting on a wicked grin of her own for the first time during the conversation. 

“No.” She said, a chuckle peeking through her voice. “I’ll make it slow. I’ll make you beg for death. I’ll make you wish that you had taken this very fucking generous first offer.”

There was another silence, filled only by the wobbling legs of the stool rocking against the ground, and the man’s anxious breaths. 

Ellie wondered if he was stupid enough to decline her generosity. 

“Okay.” He finally agreed. 

Ellie hoped that she wouldn’t have to follow through on her threats, but she wouldn’t hesitate to. 

She took her knife away from his crotch, leaving a small nick on his inner thigh that would hopefully serve as a good enough reminder of what he was supposed to do. 

Of course, the temptation to hurt him more brutally was there. She knew that if Joel came home and she was covered in blood - he would help her clean up. He would help her hide the body. But Ellie knew that this was about something bigger than herself, her own rage, her own guilt. 

It was about keeping your conscience clean. 

She knew that if you ever found out that she had killed your brother, no matter the reason, no matter the situation - the guilt would fall back onto you. You would spend the rest of your days wondering how you could have done things differently to solve a problem that was never your fault. So she would take the burden of guilt or fault off of you, and force it onto him - where it belonged. He would get to live, but he would never go near you. Not ever again. 

After thinking about all of this for a moment, and calming herself, Ellie unceremoniously cut him down, letting him fall into the middle of the floor with a grunt. She pulled his pants back up and shoved a bag over his head. The bag something else that Joel had woven into the plan - another scare tactic. 

She kept his arms bound behind him as she struggled to lug him all the way across town without getting caught. He struggled against her hold and spoke up every now and then, demanding to be released, but Ellie simply kicked him and told him to shut up. It worked well. It seemed that he was truly afraid of her, because he was much more docile now than the man who had risked hanging himself to kick her in the head. 

She dumped him on the back porch of your house and cut the ties on his wrist. He could feel stupid later for the fact that he had been in town the whole time, not secluded off in the woods someplace you would never find him. He yanked the bag off his head and looked up at Ellie with pure scorn in his eyes, and she held up her knife once more, reminding him just how sharp it was as she left him with some parting words. 

“Sundown. Tomorrow.” She told him firmly. “Or Y/N won’t even find the pieces of you scattered out in those woods.” 

Ellie was surprised when he didn’t say a single word, didn’t even hurl any insults at her back as she walked away. 

She had no idea that he was happy to cut his losses, thinking that you weren’t worth the trouble if Ellie was willing to kidnap, threaten, and eventually kill for you. 

Ellie went to bed early and hoped that everything had worked. 

She woke up from a deep, hazy sleep to pounding on her door. 

She struggled to get out of bed, thinking there was some kind of emergency. She flicked on a light and opened the door, and you came rushing inside. 

Ellie almost didn’t see you through her sleep dulled eyes, her lids still half-closed, but she recognized your voice as she closed the door behind you. 

“My brother is gone.” You said, your voice edging between worry and fear. Ellie thought you might be relieved. She didn’t know that you were still tentative - scared that he might come back, terrified it was a trick. “It’s just - he just packed up all his things, and when I woke up, he was gone. And he left me this note.” 

You thrust a piece of paper into Ellie’s hands, and she blinked her sticky eyes open a few times in order to read it. She scanned over the messy writing, barely absorbing it. It was some bullshit about how Jackson ‘wasn’t right for him’ and he felt ‘suffocated’ and he was going to travel to catch up with your group who had gone to the coast, he thought he was a man of the sea, blah blah - but you needed to stay in Jackson, because it would be safer for you. 

“It’s a trick.” You announced as Ellie read over the words. Your voice quaked, your throat tight with fear. When Ellie looked up, tears were dancing in your eyes. There were sharp scratches on your neck - they were scabbing over, and a greenish bruise on your cheek that was fading. “It’s gotta be a trick. He’s testing me. He wants me to - to follow him? Or he’s coming back, or-” 

Ellie tossed the paper aside, uncaring of where it landed, and then stepped toward you, grasping your face with gentle hands. 

“It’s okay.” She said calmly. “He’s gone.” 

She echoed the words you had said that night, letting you know that she had miraculously granted your request. 

If it was true, then you would consider her a guardian angel. But you almost couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. 

“You did something.” You said quietly. It wasn’t accusing. It was a simple truth. You swallowed thickly. You waited before you asked your next question. “Is he dead?” 

You would have hated to think that Ellie would go through so much trouble to frame his murder as him simply leaving town. 

“Would you hate me if he was?” She replied. 

Strangely enough, you had no clue how to feel. 

Ellie saw the warring on your face, the years of pain tethering in your soul, and hoped to release you from it. 

“He’s alive.” She sighed, a heavy awful truth floating from her lips. You looked somewhat relieved, but then that fear pricked into your big, sad eyes once again. “He’s not coming back. I can promise you that.” 

If he did, Ellie would kill him. But she didn’t speak those words to you. 

You lunged forward then, tightening your hands around her back, squeezing her with intense, passionate ferocity as you pressed your face into her shoulder and began to sob. Ellie held you dutifully, trying her hardest to be gentle with you, petting smoothly over your back as her heart ached at the sound of your cries. She had no idea that it was relief - pure relief exhaling from your lungs, the feeling of finally being able to breathe with the presence of that dark tormentor no longer hanging over your life. 

“Thank you.” You sobbed, clutching onto her shirt. “Thank you, Ellie. Thank you.” 

… 

When Joel came back from his patrol, he asked where Ellie had buried the body. She sighed and told him that the guy had made the wise decision to leave town. Completely of his own accord. He shrugged and said he didn’t care either way - he just wanted to meet the ‘lovely young woman who was worth going through all the trouble for’. 

Ellie invited you over for steaks at Joel’s house a few days later, and artfully dodged all the questions about whether you were dating or not. 

… 

A few months later, when winter thawed out and spring had come around once again, Ellie had taken you beyond the walls of Jackson once again, both of you delighting in the purity of everything nature had to offer, and your newfound freedom. 

“Is it just me or is the air out here… fresher?” You posed, inhaling deeply as you threw your head back, truly basking in the nature around you. 

Ellie giggled at this, and you threw a smile back over your shoulder at her. You walked along the path, bobbing between the trees and enjoying the greenery as it thawed out from the snow. 

“It’s the mountains, there’s nothing but fresh air up here.” Ellie chuckled. “As far as I’m concerned, it beats living in the city. That place stunk to high hell. People piled on top of each other, old rotting buildings, no trees anywhere.” 

You let out a small laugh at this. It wasn’t Ellie’s greatest work in comedy, but your lungs felt much lighter these days, and she soaked up the sound like the new saplings soaking up the sun. 

She had also noticed your choice of attire for the day. For her, there was still that small nip in the air, something indicating that there might be one last frost left to the year, something that made her want to wear a sweater. But you had worn a short sleeved tee shirt with your jeans, and Ellie preened at the fact that there was not a single bruise anywhere on your skin. Some old scars that she could never have the hopes of reversing, but more and more lately, your smile outshined all of them. 

“Ooh, look at this!” Ellie came to crouch at a small patch of grass, what you didn’t recognize as thick reeds that were somewhat special to her. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“Joel taught me this.” She noted, making you even more intrigued. 

Ellie plucked one out of the dirt, and held it between her two palms before she held it up to her two lips and blew - it made a sharp noise like a duck’s call, and you instantly began giggling at this delightfully strange sound. 

“Okay, how did you do that?” You asked, kneeling down beside her. 

Ellie grabbed up another one and put it in your hands, positioning them well. After a nod from her, you put it to your lips and gave a hard breath. You dissolved into laughter once again when it made that strange sound. 

“I love that.” Ellie commented, absolutely beaming herself. 

“What? You play the guitar but your favorite instrument is grass?” You joked. 

“No.” She replied. “I love that smile.” She told you, motioning up toward your face. “That’s why I fell in love with you.” 

“Els.” You murmured quietly, unable to truly explain the wave of emotion that came over you - being intensely thankful for her saving you, changing the course of your life, the swelling of love you felt for her and how it only grew with time. 

Ellie didn’t need words. She leaned in and kissed you then, and you - for the first time in a long time - relaxed into her love and let yourself be happy. 

From time to time, you were tempted to ask what exactly it was that she had done to make your brother go away. But as the months ticked on and your relationship developed - as Ellie helped you navigate your freedom and enjoy the sweeter things in life, you found that you truly didn’t care.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so please do not ask about a sequel or a continuation for it, because there won't be one. If you liked it and you want to comment on it, please comment on the body of work that I have written. Or feel free to check out the many other works I have written on my TLOU Masterlist. Thank you!!

[rewatching-sam-and-dean]

Jensen re Dean/Castiel “Resolition”

(X)

So, this is the transcript of Jensen’s answer to the question about the need for “resolution” regarding Dean and Castiel. The person who wrote it based it off of an audio recording, and people who I know and trust (who were at PurCon) corroborated that it is accurate.

Things that stand out to me from reading this:

1) Jensen is chosing his words carefully, and is probably stressed about answering this question (given all the stammers and stopes and starts in what he’s saying).

2) His general stance on this scenes (and the Dean-Cass relationship) hasn’t changed. For him (and he’s the one who matters most here), Dean cares about Castiel, sees him as a brother in arms, a friend and an ally, and one of the people he’s closest to (we know Sam is the closest).

3) Jensen doesn’t actually say Castiel is “in love” with Dean, which makes me think of what he mentioned in … Denver (?) at the first con back since the show ended. Jensen expressed that he wasn’t sure angels love in the same way people do, so he didn’t think it had to be interpreted as romantic. Which I agree with, BTW. Even if his stance on angels not having the same type of love as people chsges, it still rings the most true for me.

4) When Jensen mentions “subtext” in the transcript, it’s because someone in the audience shouted it out (as hellers always do). When he says it’s text, not subtext, I think he means that there isn’t more going on in the scene than what we see (not that a romantic relationship is text as some hellers are trying to interpret it). Castiel states his love and gratitude, Dean absorbs that. Dean is sad that his friend, who loved him a lot, died (being sucked into the empty by black goo). That’s it.

5) If there is a revival, and if we see Dean and Castiel together again, there will be nothing to address. Dean accepts what Castiel told him. Dean is not in love with Catiel, so their relationship will not change. Thus, there is nothing to address. Nothing changes.

I don’t know how many times Jensen can say the same thing before hellers get it through their thick skulls: Dean cared dearly about Castiel because they are friends, family, allies, brothers in arms. But his is NOT in love with him. It’s really not that hard of a concept to grasp.

Honestly, IMHO, you have to not want to understand what Jensen is saying here to think he’s in any way hinting at some Dean/Cas relationship in a potential revival (or whatever). The fact that he says there is “not anything to resolve” honestly says it all. Also, I think he’s being more generous about that “confession” scene than it deserves, but that’s beside the point.

(X)

[romanoffsbish]

Take it All…

Virgin!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A cute little (lengthy 🤭) story where Natasha gets to fall in love, and be taken care of in all facets 🥰

Warnings: Annoying men, AOU sexist mantra, but I promise it’s super FLUFF!

Smut: Marking(N), Oral (N), Fingering (N), Face-Riding (R), High-Tech Strap(N/R), Marking (N), Kinks: Praising/Degrading, Breeding.

18 + | Minors DNI !!

Natasha is a Swiftie, you will not change my mind.

Natasha Romanoff was no stranger to the process of flirting, truth be told she was an expert at the concept being that she is a reformed spy who's objective once was to topple regimes, and who's focus lied in the art of infiltration, and manipulation. It didn't hurt that she herself was unforgettably gorgeous, walking into a room, and exuding a sort of aura that screamed power and sex. None of the targets found it in them to resist her charms, always leading to success, but funny enough the assassin never ever crossed over the lines.

Never did she sleep with a target, even when they were lower level, and conventionally hot. Her training allowed her to forgo any sort of sexual urges, the 'love is for children' mantra lived in her mind and heart rent free, but more so it just came down to a lack of interest. Being the object of their lusty intentions actually sort of disgusted her, to be seen for the lie she sold them, and never for who she really was—not that she really knew herself at the time, either way it was a massive turn off for the redhead.

—————

—————

—————

It wasn't until she came to America, with the offer of a new lease in life, that her tune began to slowly change. No longer did she allow the Red Rooms brainwashing mantra to influence her, because when she began to find her family in the Barton's she realized just how beautiful, and easy it could be. That there really might be a place for her in the world, and she craved it desperately. Finding it however wasn't an easy feat, because all the casual dates she went on ended with roaming hands, and visits to the infirmary for the many that had dared try it.

Natasha played a part in her own demise at times though, the art of flirting was engrained in her, so of course she'd use it to her benefit. Flustering the men and women of Shield, and then eventually her team of Avengers fell prey, it filled her with a childlike glee really. Causing the oh so powerful Captain America to redden like a tomato and fumble over his words always made her day, but with them it was all a game. One might say she was a tease, but she never offered them false hope, just lighthearted, flirty banter, more like an ego boost than anything.

Never would she dare date any of them, because they too stared at her like an object. Drooling over her on undercover missions, or at one of the many parties thrown by Stark. Bruce, and Steve would be obvious with their intentions as the night drug on, and she would always retire to her room early to avoid the awkward shutting down of their advances.

Being desired wasn't the problem, because at the end of the day a relationship would need to involve such a concept. For Natasha it was the lack of further interest, she saw the way Clint and Laura communicated with just a glance, or how they'd cuddled up after a long time apart over the Hollywood image of steamy reunions. Intimacy on all levels is what she'd craved, and she was rather disappointed to have never known it. Especially as she was approaching thirty, and was still by all accounts a virgin.

No one could tell by looking at her, but at heart she was a hopeless romantic, and no one would ever believe her if they knew she'd yet to even be kissed. She was an expert at many things, avoidance being one of those, because even with her need to draw targets in, she'd avoided their advances, playing coy with a purposeful cheek landing; securing her lips untouched.

As the time flew by she had thought maybe she was wrong, that maybe she was destined to be alone forever, so much so that she'd even found comfort in her solitude, but that ache still laid deep within her, and a part of her never gave into the doubt. Much to her shock a beacon of hope came into her life about a year ago, as you were recruited for the team by Fury and Stark. There was something different about you from the start, an almost innocence to your stride, and more importantly to her a sense of respect.

It was crazy really, you were always polite, and never did she really find your gaze predatory. She'd caught you glancing every once in awhile, expressing clear interest in her appearance, but your eyes also spoke of something deeper. Which was only evidenced by your constant use of silly little ice breakers as you worked hard to break down the redheads steel walls. Friendship, something she'd only experienced on a surface level with her other teammates, barring Clint, was what you were going for.

Natasha was initially taken aback by your eagerness to befriend her, but after a few months of her giving you lackluster responses, it soon became easy for her to incorporate you into her everyday. Like every morning when at breakfast where she learned you loved the company, but also required the quietude. She'd watch as you downed two mugs of cocoa before even uttering a word, then she would happily listen to your rambles while biting into whatever nutritious meal you'd have made.

Movie nights were spent sharing a couch, a bowl of popcorn sat perfectly in the middle, and she'd always make sure to reach for it whenever you did, sending you a shy smile as your hand's fumbled over one another. Simple touches like that became an addiction for her. Every chance she had got to touch you, best believe she took it: her head on your shoulder as she "fell" asleep during the movie, a hand on your back as she "squeezed" on by, but her favorite was being pinned to the ground by you in training sessions. Even if she flustered under your gaze embarrassingly fast, she'd always run off to her room after with impure thoughts to guide the inexperienced hands pleasuring her.

She was a virgin, not a prude.

Her metaphorical walls that were meant to be sturdy like steel, were instead more akin to the crumbling Great Barrier Reef of today's world.

Letting you in being easy did shock her, but what really threw her off was the loss of game. Everything Natasha knew about flirting went out the window with you around. Signature smirks were traded in for dopey lovesick smiles, and that natural flow of teasing words of hers was replaced with an inability to speak. All it took for you to change Natasha's life was six months, she was putty in your unknowing hands. You'd actually rendered her speechless on more than one occasion, with just a glance from across the room her conversations would come to a halt, just so she could gawk at you.

Kind of like now., "Natasha, you are, as the American kids would say: 'Down bad.'," the blonde mumbles to her sister, who was nearly drooling as you exited the gym in a sports bra, and pair of basketball shorts., "Ask her out.," Clint adds from her side, and she turns to face them in bewilderment., "Are you two crazy?"

Yelena smirks as she notices you doing the same, it was clear to her you were onto Nat, but she definitely didn't expect you to boldly make your way over., "Hey guys, what's going on?," you casually greeted the threesome, and the pair behind Natasha who'd immediately turned to face you share a mischievous look., "Oh my, Clint Barton, would you look at the time."

Clint genuinely looks to his watch, then clarity washes over him., "We have a meeting with Fury in less than ten, we better get going, will you keep an eye on Nat for us?," you watch as the redheads brow twitches but her shy smile remains., "She's a bit of a troublemaker if left unsupervised.," the archer teases further, but he leaves it at that, knowing better than to test his luck any further as the pair slip on out.

"Don't I know it.," you playfully shout at their nearly departed forms, but you looked directly at the gorgeous woman before you, who only furthers her adorableness as she pouts., "I'm not a troublemaker.," she brushed passed you feigning offense, but really she was just getting rather hot under your intense gaze, so she went straight to the kitchen to get a cup of ice water., "Yeah, then who hacked into Tony's suit, and made him fly backwards for a whole hour?"

Natasha's head falls as she tries to hide her blush of embarrassment at being caught, something she could normally do easily, just never around you. It was as if you were like her own walking, breathing lie detector., "Not I.," she cursed herself as her voice had cracked. That being your fault too since you suddenly had a hand on her hip, it was innocent as you'd been using her for leverage to reach the mugs directly above her, but her thoughts were anything but as your cleavage landed in her direct eye line., "Well then I guess it'll remain the greatest mystery of our generation."

Natasha giggled, actually physically giggled, and her entire body froze at the foreign sound. Never in her life had she expressed humor so softly before, her cheeks flushed at the notion that you'd softened her this much already., "Cocoa?," she was pulled from her moment of silly panic by your voice, the offer of a warm mug of cocoa accompanied by your smile more than enough to settle her current reservations.

After her nod in approval you began to collect all your ingredients, puzzling the woman as she'd never seen cocoa made this way before. In a pan you'd scooped in your cocoa powder, followed by a pinch of salt, then whisked in your pre-boiling water. After it simmered for a few minutes, you added in your milk of choice, then removed it from the heat where you added a splash of vanilla and mixed it all up., "That's different.," you caught her curious gaze, then chuckled as she realized she spoke aloud., "Promise it's so much better too.," a blush rushed to her cheeks as you winked at her before returning to the task at hand.

Once you deemed it ready for the mugs, you divided it up evenly, then to bring the drink over the top you added in a dash of half and half to elevate the drink's texture. Just when she thought you were done you'd began to scavenge for even more ingredients, such as tiny marshmallows that you dropped into the steaming mugs., "Cream?," she nodded again as you shook the can before her face, then she gasped as you squirt it onto her nose., "Y/N!"

All you could do was cackle at the sight of her, the dollop of cream nearly melting off her nose as you scooped it off with your finger then the redheads brain short circuited as you plopped it into your mouth in an unbothered manner. The opposite of how she now stood, hot and bothered, as your satisfied moans filled the space, being followed up by the loud spray of the can as you overfilled the mugs with the creamy perfection., "Here you go Natty."

The woman took her mug, albeit shakily as she pondered how something so simple in nature could make her feel this way. Then she quickly remembers that most days all it takes is a smile from you for her knees to nearly buckle. She is grateful in this moment as you're so into the drink that you'd missed her intense staring. Well, she assumed you did, but you were just simply forgoing a teasing smile as you were invested in the creamy cocoa.

"Jesus Y/L/N, drink anymore of that powdered shit and I'm sure you'll be sponsored in no time.," Stark's teasing voice breaks the happy bubble between you and the assassin, and just as you were about to taunt him back as the both of you were known for doing Natasha speaks instead., "Yeah, as I'm sure will be the case for you and the Viagra I saw in your lab.," she casually mused while sipping down the warm beverage., "Can you imagine it? Iron Man and his Iron Rod of a success story?"

Tony left the kitchen in a dramatic huff, and as soon as he was out of earshot you were cackling maniacally. The call out was so uncalled for, but a small smattering of pride filled your chest as you realize she was clearly defending you. You'd always heard about Natasha's cold ways, but you thought them to be a fable since she'd only ever graced you with perceivable softness. This only furthers your surmounting belief that she's as smitten with you as you are her, and this shared moment with her leaves you feeling rather emboldened to test out your theory.

"What?," Natasha questions in a hushed tone, the way you're suddenly staring at her so softly, but almost teasingly leaves her skin crawling., "You're adorable Natty, did you know that?," her face instantly flushed, and you smirked., "Coming to my defense like that; it's sweet."

Natasha was stumped for a response, she'd been called many things before, but adorable and sweet didn't come close., "It makes me think my suspicions about you are right.," she gulped before finding her squeaky voice., "What suspicions?," you settled both of your mugs down, then gently grabbed her hands., "That you're into me.," she was about to protest, her heart hammering in her chest at being caught, and potentially tossed aside., "Like in the exact same way that I'm into you."

"So, if I'm right here, I'd hope you'd willingly accompany me to dinner tonight.," the hope twinkling in your eyes was promising, and it about nearly knocked the redhead off her feet., "Y-Yes, I would love to accompany you.," she stuttered, something she'd never done before in her life, but she was far too excited to care., "Meet me out front at 5pm sharp, it's a date.," you left with a soft kiss to her cheek, smirking rather victoriously as you left the kitchen.

"A date.," Natasha repeated your words, her hand reaching up to graze over her warmed cheek like a giddy school girl, she sighed dreamily just before she was rushing out of the kitchen in a panic... What would she wear, among other things flashing in her mind.

Yelena and Clint beamed at their triumph, and hugged in a moment of blinding excitement., "If you ever tell anyone about this, I will end you Clinton Barton.," the elder man nodded, then the meddling duo quickly dispersed.

—

Natasha's shaky hands brushed out the front of her dress that didn't even reach her knees. It'd taken her an hour alone to pick out the outfit, but once she found the little red number in the back of her closet she was instantly relieved. There was no way you wouldn't find her to be undeniably ravishing in it, and that's exactly what she wants from tonight. To entice you, leave you on the edge of your seat, and unable to picture a life outside of one with her, and if she were being honest, she wants to be railed.

Nerves clearly overran her decision making tonight, because any common fool could see you didn't need the assistance in falling for her. Natasha wasn't much of a common though, never before you had she ever been considered one, but there's a first time for everything... Natasha spritzed herself with a classic cologne, a delicious scent of spiced vanilla covered her, she slipped into a pair of black stilettos, then she sighed before she made her way down to you with only about ten minutes to spare.

When you heard her approaching from behind you couldn't help but to smile, but you kept your cool while facing away, waiting for her lithe fingers to tap you on your shoulders. Natasha was nervous when she saw the furrow in your brow, a stark contrast to the previous smile., "Natty, aren't you cold?," her heart melted at your concern, but she brushed it off with a soft giggle., "I'm actually burning up."

It wasn't far from the truth either, seeing you in your suit had her mouth running dry., "Are those for me?," she deflected from her outfit, and moved onto the black and red roses in your hand with a giant smile on her face., "Yes.," you nodded nervously, she excitedly pulled the bouquet up to her nose to breathe in the aroma, and while she did you moved to remove your jacket, and put it over her shoulders.

Cutting her rebuttal off with the knowledge that she'd literally just shivered you then guided her over to your Jeep, helping her in, and buckling her in for extra precaution. Natasha was working on calming her nerves as you slowly rounded your car, not only were you not ogling her like she's used to, but you're also caring for her in ways she'd never experienced. It was so foreign to her, part of her worried you might not be as into her as you initially let on, but the sight of you smiling at her as you entered the car reminded her that the unknown isn't all bad, especially not when you're the one steering the ship, and are kind enough to hold her fidgeting hand as you do it.

The restaurant you took her to was beautiful, a little Italian joint on the corner of the street. There was a homey feeling to it that she wasn't used to, but it was comforting to say the least. Most people who took her out on dates were trying to impress her with flashy joints in the elite areas of the city, but she didn't need that; money and power wasn't the way to her heart. It was moments like this, spent beneath dim lights that hardly showcased the menu, with a goofball that covered her eyes and read the contents to her by heart that managed to do so.

Granted, you'd already had her heart before the dinner, but this hilarious display just assured her that you definitely were meant to have it. Natasha ordered the shrimp scampi after you raved on about it for ages, then she quirked a brow as you yourself ordered the five cheese raviolis., "What? This way I can have a bite of your delicacy, and enjoy my cheesy goodness.," Natasha snorted., "Oh? Who says I'm sharing?"

She did in fact share with you too, because as soon as you pulled out the puppy dog eyes she found she wasn't exactly capable of saying no. It wasn't unfair though, as you reached across the table with your fork held out., "Shit, Y/N, why have you been keeping this place a secret? All of this food is delicious.," she exclaimed over the bite of ravioli, and you beamed at her words., "Had to keep it at the ready for a date with a pretty girl.," her face fell slightly, clearly missing your teasing tone, but yours instantly softened at the obvious confusion on hers.

"Natasha.," she hummed while giving you her attention., "You're the pretty girl.," the woman immediately smiled shyly at the way you spoke of her in such ways, she's more used to being called hot or sexy by desperate people, she's truly never heard something as delicate before. Internally she felt embarrassment filling her at her cluelessness—of course you meant her, her self deprecating mind quieted down though when your hand settled over hers on the table., "Eat up beautiful, I can't wait for the cannolis."

Natasha loved everything about you really, but this childlike excitement of yours has to be one of the most endearing qualities you carry. Her eyes were amused, watching your lips move at record speed as you giddily ordered the sweet. When you turned back to face her she smiled warmly, her heart absolutely full as you subtly linked your hand with hers and urged her to talk. It's the best feeling in the world to be at the center of your attention, and have your eyes meet hers as she spoke about genuine interests.

With you she's able to just be, there's no pressure to uphold conversations filled with small talk, or to flaunt off her assets to keep your attention. She realized as you spoke to her so animatedly about the modifications you were making to her guns that she'd always just had it, no matter if she was in her pajamas or a revealing dress, and that truly settled all of her remaining doubts about you becoming hers.

As you escorted her back out into the cold New York night she instantly shivered, using the moment as an excuse to push back into you as you guided her to your vehicle., "Here, warm the car up, I'm sure I have warmer clothes for you in the back, you're going to need them.," she didn't question you, but she was curious to know what else you had planned for the night.

After slipping into your backseat she slipped out of her dress as you kindly waited outside in the cold, she was grinning as she slipped your sweat suit on, and she shamelessly snuggled into it with a sigh as your scent encased her., "Wow, you look so beautiful in my clothes.," Natasha's eyes caught the way yours darkened momentarily before returning to their normal shade, and she shuffled a bit as the sight of you in your lusty state put her into one of her own, or more so it just spurred on the one that's been steadily building within her all day long., "Th-thank you.," you winked., "No, thank you."

Natasha giggled, and your heart fluttered at the infectious sound., "Shall we go?," she pursed her lips playfully., "Depends, where to?," you rolled your eyes while helping her into the passengers seat., "You'll see in due time."

Natasha was about to question your next move, but then she was too busy DJing, as you gave her your phone in an obvious attempt to distract her, it clearly worked, and you smiled in amusement as she sang without fear beside you., "The more that you say, the less I know. Wherever you stray, I follow I'm begging for you to take my hand.," you noted her passion, and her shockingly good vocals, and decided it best that she always control the aux cord so you'd forever be blessed with her hidden talent.

"TSwizzle fan are we?," you teased as you put the car in park and turned to look at her., "That's a silly question, of course I am, and if you're not you might as well take me home.," she huffed, but you could see she was joking., "Oh?," you went to reach for the keys, but she quickly stopped you., "Calm yourself honey, I was only removing them from the ignition."

"Red's really her best album.," you suddenly proclaimed and the redhead gasped in offense while accepting your help out of your car., "Absolutely not! It's a masterpiece sure, but let's not act like Folklore isn't right there.," you chuckled lightly., "Natasha, are you okay?!," she gasped and slapped your shoulder, causing you to chuckle even harder., "Am I okay? Are you?! I bet All Too Well is your favorite track."

A shrug was all Natasha needed to know she was right, her smug smile telling you as such, but before she could rub her win in your face she was stopping in her tracks at the sight., "Holy shit, the city's beautiful when you're not stuck in it.," her honesty brought a smirk to your face., "Yeah, I love to come here when the world gets a bit too much, it's therapeutic."

Natasha internally beamed at the knowledge that you'd brought her to not one, but two of your special places, it was heartwarming that you trusted her enough to let her in like this. Then her heart nearly combusted when you wrapped your arms around her from behind, letting her settle into your warmth while the both of you stared over the bridge and at the distant twinkling of the New York City skyline.

The silence that surrounded the two of you was surprisingly comforting, her ability to hear your soft huffs along with the distant traffic and crickets chirping were more than enough for her as she was completely relaxed in your tight hold., "Natty.," she hummed, too afraid to use her voice while your breath fans across her skin., "Are you interested in sharing a dance?"

"Good, let me show you Taylor's best.," you teased the redhead while pulling back to pull out your phone, missing the way she whined at the loss of contact in your obvious excitement., "Take my hand darling, and let me woo you."

Natasha took your hand with a playful shake of her head, allowing you to pull her against you, the proximity left her speechless, and the way you looked down at her made her blush wildly. It took her by surprise when you spun your bodies around to the upbeat song, but she quickly fell in line and found herself smiling unabashedly as you sung the lyrics sillily.

"Before you, I'd only dated self-indulgent takers; who took all of their problems out on me.," the lyrics spoke too deeply to the woman's soul as she is reminded of all of the horrors that came before you., "But you carry my groceries and now I'm always laughing.," she smiled though at the realization that she now had you., "I love you because you have given me no choice but to: stay, stay, stay.," and as she listened to the words leaving your lips, with her hand resting over your chest, she could feel her heart beating in sync with yours; she just hoped this intense feeling would last forever, and not be a fleeting moment in time.

The two of you eventually managed to sway your bodies all the way back to your car, you fell into the Jeep in a fit of nervous giggles as the song faded out into All Too Well. When you looked up though, noticing that Natasha was still leaning against your body, it was all too suddenly that the lightness in the air faded. Natasha stared at you so intensely as the light of the moon lit up your features, you just looked so damn beautiful, and in a moment of bravery she fell into you, planting her lips to yours; making her inexperience obvious.

When you didn't initially respond to her bold advances she felt worry consuming her entire being, did she read the moment wrong? But they were instantly quelled as you laid your hands over her hips, shifting the position and pushing her body into the car while your lips took over the momentum of the heated kiss. Natasha was grateful to be leaning into your car, because when your tongue slowly slipped into her mouth her knees nearly buckled.

Instinctively you could feel the way her hips jutted, causing you to still in your movements, and for her to whine as you pulled away entirely., "Nat, I don't want to rush things.," she desperately held onto the collar of your shirt when you tried to take a step back., "Y/N, I've waited my whole life for this moment, and I'm nothing short of sure with you, so please."

The lingering suspicion was met with her truth, and you almost felt bad with how excited it made you to know you'd be the first, and if you're fortunate, hopefully the last to have Natasha in such ways, but you were still a bit unsure., "Are you sure Natasha?," your thumb trailed over the apple of her flushed cheek, and she was quick to nod eagerly., "Use your words honey.," you smiled softly, and she melted into your hand., "I'm sure Y/N, please, take it all."

The drive back to the compound was shorter than usual, but with the use of side streets, and with your foot slammed to the gas pedal it was a blink of an eye before you and the redhead were stumbling into your bedroom. Her lip's eagerly pressed to yours, and you quick to reciprocate while guiding her body to the bed. The both of you tumbled down together, but before it got anymore heated you pulled back., "Natasha.," she tried to shush you., "I'm sure."

You shook your head with an amused smile., "Trust me baby, I know.," you reassured her with a knowing glance, the heat radiating from between her legs was enough of a telltale sign., "I'm just...," you paused, readjusting so that you could straddle her, hands cupping her cheeks as your eyes blossomed with such care., "I really like you Natasha—I want you, more than anything really, to be mine wholly.," she smirked up at you, this sudden change in your demeanor amused her, the nervousness was obvious, but she was perplexed on how you'd even ended up worried., "I'm all yours Y/N, so please, help me out here, I-I need you."

You cut her pleading off with your lips to hers, it was delicate, because as much as you wanted to tear her apart, you were far too aware of this being her first time, and you wanted to give her all the power., "More, please.," she began to shuffle uncomfortably from beneath you, so you were quick to remove both of your top layers, allowing her a bit more contact before your lips were on hers again, she whimpered into your mouth when your nipples brushed over her own, and  your tongue slid into her mouth while you pressed your pelvis to hers.

Teasingly you kept a steady pace as to work her up, not that she really needed it, but slow and steady was always the best way to go when you were learning another's body., "Tell me baby, do I have permission to mark you as mine?," she moaned at the thought., "Fuck, please do.," you smirked against her lips, then you began to trail your lips down her taut jawline, taking extra care to ensure you'd find her sweet spot, and when you finally sucked her earlobe between your teeth you found yourself victorious as she gasped, and shuffled beneath your body., “Please, I-I need more detka.”

“Patience my dear, I will take such good care of you, don’t you worry.,” your lips continued to move down her body, slowly leaving behind varying degrees of markings, and pulling the most delicious whimpers from the mess of a woman as you found even more sensitive spots., “So receptive baby, just keep making those pretty noises for me, and show mommy just how good she’s making you feel.”

Natasha’s eyes widened at your given title, it made her body shiver in anticipation of when she’d get to call it out, her thighs rubbing together beneath you showed you just how affected she was., “Patience baby, spread your legs for me honey, be mommy’s good girl.,” she whined at your command, but she shocked herself really with how pliant she had become., “There you go baby, promise I’m going to take care of you, just trust me, and the process.”

Impatience fueled her, but she knew you knew what you were doing, the thought alone came with waves of jealousy, but it settled easily whenever you laid another kiss to her hot skin, or better yet left another deep mark, claiming her as yours, and in turn making you hers. Natasha immediately rose her hips off the bed when she felt the tips of your fingers push passed the hem of her-your-sweats, and you kindly held back a chuckle at her eagerness.

The sight of her bare cunt shocked you, she was not nearly as innocent as she was playing it if she wore your clothing over her bareness., “Natasha, you are such a needy little whore.,” you couldn’t hold back your thoughts, and it seemed beneficial when her arousal dripped onto the sheets and she whined, almost as if she was in immense pain with how turned on you’ve made her., “Please, mommy, it hurts.,” you chuckled tauntingly as you laid between her thighs., “My beautiful, filthy whore…”

In slow succession you began to move closer to her core, leaving more marks on her thighs, and the woman whined and gasped the whole time as you cycled between sucking and biting. It was taking everything in you not to move to just devouring her, but the love you held for the special woman kept your carnality at bay, and left you with the need to not rush things., “Baby, we’re at the point of no return, but if you need me to stop, just whisper ‘widow’.,” you held eye contact with the dizzy girl from over her glistening mound, your quirked brow telling her to speak., “I understand mommy.”

“Good girl.,” you mumbled against her thigh, then with your hands splayed over them you held them down against the bed, and slowly trailed your tongue up her slit., “Oh fuck!,” and just as you’d expected the strong muscles beneath your fingertips tensed, fighting your hold as they tried to close around your head., “Keep them open for me honey.,” your words were met with attempted obedience as she calmed down, but as soon as your lips wrapped around her clit and offered the tiniest bit of pressure you were grateful that you decided to hold them down anyways, because your mouth was unrelenting as it brought her to tears.

“Mommy, I-I.,” she whimpered, her body was in a state of unfamiliar territory, and it was up to you to ease her., “Sh, whatever you’re feeling is part of the process honey, just let go.,” Nat was stressed that you were misinformed here, the urge to pee was strong, but it wasn’t an urge she could fight as your tongue plunged deep into her, and successfully threw her into a blinding state of bliss she’d yet to experience.

Natasha was breathing harshly as you trailed your way back up her body, fingers gently circling over her hip in a gentle comfort, and your body laid atop of hers to ground her., “How are you feeling love?,” she smiled in lieu of a response, and you returned the gesture., “Are you satisfied? Or shall I continue, hm?,” her thighs rubbed together when your raspy voice hit her., “Please don’t stop, I want it all.”

“As you wish.,” you winked, then met her lips in a passionate kiss as your fingers danced over her skin, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps on there way to her puffy cunt, where they met no resistance, but were still as gentle as can be as only one of them surpassed her entrance., “Shit.,” you swallowed the grunt, but moved your kisses to her neck in an attempt to distract her from the unfamiliar feeling of your finger., “It’s going to sting baby, but I promise it’ll only be temporary, but do remember the safe word.”

After a few seconds you began to remove the finger before slowly reentering her, setting a slow pattern to get her used to the feeling. Natasha felt the exact moment the pain became pleasurable, and she moaned languidly against your earlobe to let you know. You moved to introduce a second finger, and were met with a pained gasp, but as you started to pump them into her at a steady pace she became a moaning mess that was only further turning you on.

Her walls clenched around your fingers with every thrust, you also noticed that when you groaned they’d flutter uncontrollably, and you found that to be extremely hot., “Fuck, baby you’re taking me so well.,” you smirked against her neck when her cunt sucked you in further., “God baby, you have such a greedy little cunt.,” she moaned, partially at your words, and even more so at the way you curled your fingers so torturously slow from within her.

“I-I think I’m close.,” you hummed while sucking on her heated skin., “Then let go for your mommy.,” you bit into her neck, and she quite literally shrieked in a mix of pain and pleasure, her back arched off the bed while her thighs trembled, and you returned your lips to hers to quiet down her unrelenting screams as your fingers lazily rode her through her high.

Once her body seemed to be calming down you removed your fingers from her, and she cried., “I want more, please.,” your eyes widened., “Fucking hell baby, you’re insatiable.,” you traced a line of her own slick over her lips, then nodded in encouragement, smiling when she took the hint, and used her tongue to clean it off as you did the same to your shining fingers., “You taste divine, like the holiest of nectars.,” she beamed at your words, then she pouted when you looked to be leaving the bed.

“I can’t give you more unless you give me a chance to collect it.,” you winked at her before entering your closet and procuring your latest science experiment with an excited smirk. A soft groan left your lips as you slipped the end of your strap into you, clenching purposely you watched as the shaft responded with a twitch., “Fuck, this is going to be everything.,” you groaned then made quick work of returning to the needy redhead laid atop of your bedsheets.

“Oh shit.,” her eyes were wide when she saw the almost human like appendage dangling from between your legs, it looked so realistic that she almost wondered if you were a sorcerer., “Think you can handle mommy’s cock baby?,” she nodded dumbly, a response that was inspired by her eager cunts pulsing., “Yes, please just give it to me already.,” after she spoke you wasted no time hovering above her, and slowly you moved your hips, getting the silicone covered in her abundant slick.

“This is going to sting love, but I’ll be gentle.,” she tensed, but when your thumb slowly began to stimulate her clit she settled into the bed., “Relax baby, it’ll be smoother if you do.,” she happily reciprocated the kiss when you laid your lips to hers, but then she accidentally bit your lip as you began to inch the strap passed her entrance., “I’m sorry mommy, I—.,” you shushed her quickly, then began to pick the momentum of the kiss up to distract her as best you could from the toys unfamiliar stretch.

Once you felt your pelvis meet hers you were in awe at the sight, seeing her taking you in so well was truly astonishing., “Baby look down.,” she lifted her head in a daze, then threw it back into the pillows after she saw the way you had filled her so well., “Are you ready,” she smiled up at you excitedly., “Fuck me hard mommy.”

Even with her encouragement you started out slow, knowing her excitement wasn’t riddled in awareness, and you were certain she was grateful for that as her nails dug into you with every shallow thrust you rewarded her with. There wasn’t going to be a long process here, with how worked up you already were, and how sensitive she was it was bound to be a short endeavor, you prolonged it as best you could, but with every clench of her walls around the strap you were hit with a vibration on your end that had you panting wildly.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret baby.,” you grunted while drilling the strap into her at a picked up pace., “Mommy’s cock is full, and she’s going to bust any second now, filling you up with her babies, and making you scream.,” Natasha’s heart ached at the notion, but her pussy also fluttered rapidly around the strap, causing you to do the same on your end as it all became too much, and with a final thrust the cum reservoir was activated, and Natasha’s body jolted up as she screamed in pleasure.

Natasha wrapped her arms around your back, and buried her face in your chest as she was overwhelmed by the feeling of you gushing inside of her, and you two fell into heap on the mattress as you were desperately trying to calm yourself down after the intense orgasm you just experienced, and Natasha could sense that you were struggling a bit so she did her best to comfort you even in her own state, and the feeling of her hand carting through your hair was enough to honestly make your heart burst.

“Such a good girl.,” you praised while laying gentle kisses across her collarbones to help further bring the both of you back down., “Making mommy so proud baby, so fucking proud.,” Natasha was a fast learner, even in her dizzy state she could feel everything you did to her, and every bit of her wanted to reciprocate., “Mommy, can I please try?,” you smiled down at her softly, then pecked her pleading lips., “You’ve been such a good girl for me, so how about I ride that pretty face of yours, hm?!,” she nodded vigorously, but then she was quick to correct herself., “Yes, please do it.”

Standing up quickly you removed the strap from within you, wincing slightly as it left you, then carefully you had moved until you were hovering above her head., “Stick your tongue out baby, and tap my thigh if you need me to get off, no pressure at all, just have fun.,” you could see her smiling, her tongue slowly wetted her lips as she stared at your dripping center, then after her moment of gawking she listened.

Natasha’s arms were instantly wrapped around your plush thighs, and her tongue was flattened as you settled atop her face, she instantly moaned when your arousal touched her tongue, and you groaned at the vibrations making her feel an overwhelming sense of pride to have been able to please you already. It’d helped the inexperienced girl that you were already sensitive, but as you began to grind against her face you realized she was simply a natural, she belonged between your thighs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing so well, mommy’s going to cum, is that okay?,” you panted from above her as you felt yourself about to let go, but you still didn’t want to overwhelm her., “Fuck.,” you moaned when you felt her mumbling her approval, and in a moments time your movements became more erratic as you worked to prolong your high, but when you came back to yourself you quickly clambered off of her, only to find Natasha’s dopey smile to greet you as your slick drenched her face., “That was fucking epic.,” you chuckled at her innocence, then moved to lay atop of her again.

“You’re so fucking perfect Natasha.,” the smile you received made your heart flutter, and you felt the urge to kiss her deeply to reiterate the previous sentiment., “Thank you Y/N/N.,” you only kissed her deeper., “It was my pleasure.”

Natasha’s body settled atop of yours the second it hit the mattress, and your arm was quick to tug her even closer which resulted in a long, happy sigh leaving her swollen, pink lips., “Rest now love, we’ll clean you up in a bit.,” you whispered, and felt relieved when her body relaxed the rest of the way into yours.

—

"I-I need to tell you something.," Nat shakily whispers, breaking the perceived peaceful silence, and you shift to sit as she'd done, your body briefly tensed with fear that she’d become regretful after all, but you grabbed her hands while smiling comfortingly anyways., "Natty, you can tell me anything. What is it that's troubling you sweetheart?,” your heart nearly broke when you saw how terrified she looked.

"In the Red Room, where I was trained, where I was raised, they have a graduation ceremony. They sterilize you. It's efficient – one less thing to worry about – the one thing that might matter more than a mission. Makes everything easier, even killing.," her voice shakes as she fidgets with your fingers, avoiding your eyes; likely full of pity, or to her fear—disgust., "Bruce isn't the only monster on the team..."

"Oh Natasha.," you coo, immediately bringing her rigid form into your lap, embracing her wholly, and rocking her as she begins to tremble., "You are not a monster!"

"What happened to you wasn't right, and all that they made you do wasn't your fault.," you stop briefly, trying to regain your composure even though all you wanted to do was cry with her., "Nothing you could say to me will change my mind. You, Natasha Romanoff, are one of a kind in the best ways possible. I've cherished every moment spent with you, and you are so much more than your body to me.," Natasha was overwhelmed with emotion as you spoke, pulling back from your chest, and slamming her lips to yours, desperately needing to feel you, and the comfort of your touch to go along with the words she always needed to hear.

After allowing her the chance to control the moment you eventually pulled back, offering her the softest smile you could muster while wiping away the tears that covered her face., "Being able to bare a child doesn't reflect your worth, but if down the line you're able to love one then I can see us going the distance.," she smiled at you so brightly that you couldn't fight the widening of your own smile., "The distance with you sounds like a dream come true Y/N."

A budding bubble of hope blanketed the both of you as you laid her down, and continued on to show her just how much you planned to love her right; to love her as she always deserved.

Natasha was overwhelmed by the warmth of your love, she smiled softly against your chest, very grateful she waited this long, because she doubts anyone else would've been as tender with her as you were., "I love you Y/N/N.," her whispered words caught you off guard, your hand having been rubbing soft circles into her exposed hip in comfort., "I love you too Natty."

Natasha, tired as she was, burrowed her face into your neck as you returned her feeling's without any doubt present in your voice. It took a lot for her to admit it, and it paid off; you mirrored her features as she smiled against your skin, before she began laying tired kisses to the bare skin in silent affection. Your hand never stopped moving comfortingly, and so it wasn't long before her kisses were replaced by soft puffs of air, and adorable little snores., "Goodnight my love, here's to our forever.," your heart skipped at the prospective future as your eyes fluttered shut; following in her lead.

——

The warm sun splaying across your face in the late hours of the morning arose you from your deepest slumber. Without even opening your eyes you began to stretch out your sore body, the sounds of your bones cracking causing a knowing smile to overtake your face at the memories of the night before. Though it was quickly replaced by a deep frown when you rolled over, and realized the bed was empty.

Sitting up you took the blankets with you, preserving your modesty while you got your bearings. The bedside tables clock flashed 9:00am, and you had an idea for where your lover had ended up. Missing her led to you slipping out of the warm bed and into your ensuite, where you took a quick shower before you slowly made your way to the living room.

"Annabella, and Erin keep it down.," Natasha shushed the five year olds., "Mama's asleep., Your chest fluttered with affection at your wife's attempts to protect your slumber. Natasha might not have birthed the little redheads with the bright green eyes, but from the strikingly similar looks, down to their feisty nature, they were hers—through and through.

"Come again?," your teasing voice traveled throughout the living room, being followed up by a chorus of squeals as your daughters wasted no time rushing into your open arms., "Mama!! We missed you so much!," you pecked their little cheeks., "I missed you little gremlins so much more.," the girls giggled wildly in your hold as your fingers jabbed into their sides., "Mama, please stooooop.," Anabella whined, while Erin stuck to squirming in her protest.

Natasha watched you all from the kitchen, allowing her favorite couple of girls their moment with you before she could have hers. Her gaze was riddled with a mix of love, and impatience, because as much as she adored your mother persona, she much preferred your snuggly wife persona in the mornings., "Girls, go get cleaned up, and we can go to the park.," she clapped her hands together to emphasize her point, and the girls squirmed from your arms in a rush. Nat smirked at you in triumph, and you just rolled your eyes before opening your arms to her, and instantly exciting her.

"Yelena brought them back about an hour ago, I'm sorry we couldn't wake up together.," your wife's muffled grumbling flowed into your shirt, but you managed to catch the words, a soft chuckle leaving you at her clear contempt., "We couldn't get the forever babysitter deal?,"you gasped, humoring your apparently jilted lover., "The nerve of the girl, even after we watched Fanny for a whole three months earlier this year."

A dogs bark pulled your attention from the teasing nature, your wife stilled along with you., "Yeah, stupid Fury and his missions.," you chuckled at the fuller picture, then at the sound of nearby babbling you peaked into the kitchen to see your son sat in his high chair beating his cup into the sensory play mat on the tray., "Well that's one way to experiment with it buddy.," then as if the world didn't want to give Natasha a break, a loud noise erupted.

Natasha was reluctant to pull away from you, but she heard the booming noise upstairs, so after she groaned exaggeratedly into your chest she did so, pouting up at you until you got the hint. A hum of contentment left her as your lips pressed to hers so tenderly., "There's hot cakes on the counter for you, eat up hot stuff.," you snorted as you pulled away from the kiss, then you watched as her smirking form left to handle the chaotic girls, and you moved into the kitchen to eat, while cuddling with your smallest man., "Mommy's a silly goose. Isn't she Rico?," he babbled incoherently in your hold, but you could almost swear he said 'yeah'

Natasha met you in the car with the deviants, their somber expressions feigning remorse, but the mischief stirring around their eyes told you they weren't sorry in the slightest. As your wife joined you up front you looked to her, but the tight smile told you not to even ask, so you didn't. Her hand soon found yours, softly settling over it as it rested atop the gear shift, she'd been squeezing it in random successions of three as you drove, making you smile, and after a few times you'd flipped your hand over to link with hers., "I love you too.," conveyed in the simplest of gestures, your wife smiled over at you warmly, and thanked the heavens above that she let you in all those years ago.

She finally found her place in this world with the help of your unwavering love, and started this beautiful family. All of her dreams having come to fruition—well almost all of them., "Detka?," you hummed as you carefully pulled into the parking lot of the three story park., "Can we get a cat?," you snorted at the randomness, pulling your connected hands up to your lips to deposit a sweet kiss shortly after., "Whatever you want my love, you get.," truth be told you'd give Natasha anything she asked for, because no one in the world was more deserving in your eyes., "How about another baby then? Help to even us out."

Well, almost everything...

—————

8,818 Words

Enjoy my beautiful whores? 👀

[amostnobleyandere]

Yandere! Incel! Scaramouche x NB! Reader

This is an 18+ blog!!!! If you don’t like yandere content or are a minor, do not interact. thank you!

CW: Yandere content, stalking, creepy scaramouche, incel behavior, creepy behavior, toxic relationships, kidnapping, his friends encourage and enable his problematic behavior, brief fantasizing about a domestic husband/spouse dynamic, forced romantic relationship, non-consensual touching

*also just to be clear, this is loosely based off the term “incel,” his behavior is more like a creepy recluse if anything?? I just couldn’t think of a better word to use and I thought it fit okay. there’s no misogyny or extremely gross behavior involved, but he is creepy so just. keep that in mind. anyways, enjoy!

—————————

Incel! Scaramouche who doesn’t get out much not because he has bad social skills (he does but that’s not the point), but because he loathes the idea of big crowds and being around lots of people. Socializing with people is already irritating enough, since he’s the only one on this earth who seems to have braincells. Why go out when he’s got everything he needs at home?

Incel! Scaramouche who has more money than he knows what to do with from his (insanely) loaded and emotionally distant mother (who gives it to him because she doesn’t know how to show affection any other way). he spends it all on expensive gaming set ups, take-out, and new technology all while being up in his top floor penthouse with a horizon line view.

Incel! Scaramouche who has friends, they’re just all online (and just as fucked up as he is) who he talks to (yells at) through the microphone while gaming.

Incel! Scaramouche who meets you while doing something mudane. He sees you at a grocery store picking over vegetables one day. Ignores you. 30 minutes later, he proceeds to bump into you and then acts like an asshole about you touching him, something that was clearly his fault. The two of you get into it, and eventually you’re the one to turn and walk away, already in a bad mood from the interaction. He’s interested now.

Incel! Scaramouche who isn’t delusional enough to convince himself that it’s fate, but who is curious enough to stalk follow you around for a while. He’s not hurting you or talking to you, what’s the harm done?

Incel! Scaramouche who while stalking monitoring you begins to note things about you. Unconsciously, of course. It’s not like his life revolves around you or anything. He just…starts to notice things. How you spend your days, what you like, what you don’t like, who you interact with and the places that you spend your time at the most. Soon enough he knows just as much about you habits and daily life as your friends do, if not more.

Incel! Scaramouche whos friends encourage his problematic behavior. They’re just as chronically online as he is, and have no conception of the morals and boundaries that come with having a healthy relationship. (Some of them, like Venti and Kazuha, even have a more romantic view of his infatuation interest, repeating that it’s okay to cross some lines, as long as it’s for love)

Incel! Scaramouche who has a weird view of relationships because his only knowledge on them comes from anime, the internet, and all the other types of weird media he consumes. (Should the kidnapping happen before or after your first date?) He’s not doing any of the cheesy shit the internet says. He’s not going to bring flowers, that would be stupid. (He’ll end up buying an overly large bouquet which he sends to your doorstep. there’s no note and you find it extremely creepy. You refuse to leave your home without pepper spray now)

Incel! Scaramouche who eventually just plucks you from the streets, right outside of your home/apartment building. No struggle to go along with it. Obviously you do fight back, but the men he hired to pick you up are far too experienced for you to even have a chance of running away.

Incel! Scaramouche who doesn’t really care about your feelings surrounding the whole situation. and well. he was getting a little lonely. most of his friends live too far away for them to meet up frequently, and it’s not like he’d want to see those crazy bastards everyday anyways. You’re much better company compared to those psychos, as much as he loathes to admit it. and you’re just so…pretty, and he can feel and touch you as much as he wants. it’s pleasant, and his apartment has never felt so full before, not at all empty like it did before he brought you here. you should be grateful you’re here too; he gives you everything you could ever want (within reason). really, you should feel grateful that you’ve been chosen by someone who’s so financially stable, who can provide for you.

you can have a good life with him, better than you could’ve had without him.

Incel! Scaramouche who kind of begins to see you as his little house spouse. nevermind that you’re here against your will; you’ve taken up doing chores around the house if only to fill the time, and it’s really only confirming his belief that kidnapping you was the best thing he could’ve done. when he comes through the door after a rare visit to the outside world and he sees you sitting there, idle, practically waiting for him? he feels like the typical breadwinner coming home to a loving domestic life. he’s not so delusional to think that you’re happy to be his little house spouse and captive, but it’s not like you can do anything about it, so he might as well enjoy the thought while he can.

[yanderes-galore]

Hello and happy birthday! I wanted to request romantic Mauga x healing Gn!reader.

Thank you and thank you! Here you go :) Me spilling more thoughts about the big man I love 💜

Genuinely hate that I'm the only one writing for him right now... I desire him.

Yandere! Mauga with Support/Medic! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Threats/Intimidation, Slight flirting, Isolation, Forced relationship, Suggestive line at the end.

I have a feeling it's a similar thing to Baptiste.

Mauga's the Tank, you're the Support, you're meant to keep him alive.

By default I feel this would make you a Talon medic, similar to Baptiste.

Except... while Baptiste managed to escape from Talon... you're unable to.

Mostly due to Mauga as you later find out.

Maybe you're in a similar boat as Baptiste, you originally joined Talon to help people completely unaware of the real intentions of the organization.

It's just mercenary work... right?

That or you have your own reasons.

As a medic and support you naturally end up seeing Mauga often.

He isn't going to get far as heavy assault without back up.

For this concept let's say you, Baptiste, and Mauga are a group of comrades in Talon.

You often help Mauga during and after fights.

While Baptiste and Mauga are good friends, you may begin to notice Mauga feels something different to his second support friend.

When it comes to you Mauga seems awfully... interested.

When you have him take off his heavy armor to attend to wounds, he often makes suggestive comments as you touch his skin.

Mauga also begins to prefer you to work on him as a medic.

Baptiste does his job fine, great even, but Mauga likes you alone.

In his eyes, Mauga doesn't think you have the killer instinct Baptiste does.

You really are just meant to heal and support, a useful unit in Talon other than outright damage.

To Mauga that means you're perfect for one another... in combat and other means.

Mauga is normally comfortable around Baptiste, yet he finds himself twitching when you speak with the combat medic for too long.

The obsession would continue to grow as you go on missions.

Some times you step out on missions, instead being paid to attend to wounded at base.

Mauga ends up meeting up with you still just to chat.

Sometimes you even catch wounds on him... which is odd.

A man like him isn't clumsy, did he do this on purpose just to be given your medical attention?

You try to push such thoughts from your mind but you have a feeling something is off with how Mauga feels around you.

That only escalates as you learn the truth of Talon along with Baptiste.

Baptiste expresses wishes to leave, he hates killing innocents.

You agree, the pay is nice... but the job wears on you.

As a result you help Baptiste escape and things play out like they did in his lore.

Mauga lets him go, Baptiste goes into hiding, and you continue work.

You yourself want to leave the organization too.

The issue?

Well... Mauga knows.

The heavy assault soldier only has more excuses to stick around you now as Baptiste is gone.

Plus, he knows you helped Baptiste leave.

He knows you want to leave too...

You're lucky Mauga likes you... he could've turned you into the boss... or killed you.

Mauga no doubt isn't going to let you ditch Talon like Baptiste.

You're his medic now, you're meant to support him.

You and him will be a new duo... not a trio... partners.

Part of him is a bit happy Baptiste left.

He was getting really tired of sharing.

You yourself can tell Mauga's catching onto your thoughts.

He never likes to leave you alone.

He even gets more pushy on you being more than his medic.

He admits casual comments, some threatening, some more... personal.

Mauga's plan is to make you feel like you need him as partners.

If you still feel like you want to leave Talon... well, Mauga isn't going to let you just walk out like Baptiste.

If he has to corner you... intimidate you... all just to make you stay?

He feels he'll convince you.

Just as you try to put together plans to leave and start a new life... Mauga's here to remind you where you belong.

You'll be cornered in your office, the heavily armored man blocking you in.

His grin is wide but his eyes read danger.

You struggle to explain yourself, he probably doesn't believe you anyways.

"Planning to leave your partner all alone?"

His voice is low... threatening.

"Maybe you need a reminder that you belong here... with me."

You can't leave past him... he essentially blocks the door with his size.

A true mountain of a man...

You wish you left earlier... or never joined at all.

"Now, help me get this armor off, won't you, doc? I don't plan on needing it."